Grima runs through the alleyway, her hand clutching her side as she makes her way through the winding, dark corridors and away from the distant sounds of fighting. Once she was certain she was far enough away, Grima staggered to a stop, practically collapsing next to a wall beside her,

The entire situation, without a shred of doubt, was a catastrophe. She could not begin to fathom what exactly caused that creature to hunt her down, aside from it sensing the connection between the vessel and the true form. How was, truthfully, irrelevant: Only that she was almost killed by it. A long, slow exhale comes from Grima’s lips as they propped themselves up on the wall. Despite their power, this vessel was not without its flaws, and though they could never get the vessel itself to the level of their true form, cursed with human flesh as it was, it would prove valuable to strengthen it as much as they could.

With a grunt of effort Grima pushed themselves away from the wall and began to head out of the alleyway she had found herself in. The streets that connected nearby were filled with a mass of people, some having been the same individuals that ran from Hauzer’s attack, others simply being in the area. Murmurs spread through the crowd about the rampaging dragon, but Grima ignored them. The city’s defenses had marked the beast, and it was unlikely to be a continued threat to her. Instead, Grima simply walked through the crowd, head held high despite the pain in her torso, making her way to the nearby bulletin boards. Her fight with Hauzer had caused her to miss the initial announcements for the battles, but she could at least find them here and now.

Thankfully, it did not take long for Grima to find her name, opponent, and location. A worm named “Danny” that would serve as her first foe in the tournament. The name did not strike fear in the Fell Dragon, and mostly resulted in her rolling her eyes before marking down the location of her fight in her memory and beginning to walk to reach it.

Weak as this vessel may be, a worm like that should be of no challenge.

Roxas had kept pretty quiet ever since his team among the Seekers had rejoined the others. Truth be told, the Nobody was still plenty embarrassed about his blunder in the Security Room with Vauban. Thankfully, nobody had asked that team for specific details about what happened back there. But even then, there was still some evidence of the singes in his clothes from all those electric shocks he suffered, even if the injuries themselves had all been healed up by now.

Roxas tilted his head as he observed Eve’s demonstration for how to use the Hypertube. Surfing on a blade was certainly unorthodox, and yet somehow even that was something Roxas was vaguely familiar with seeing. Thinking back on it, there were definitely a lot of crazy feats of skill between all the various Keyblade Wielders and Organization Members when they fought at the Keyblade Graveyard. And yes, Keyblade surfing had been one of those feats at certain points.

And so, taking a page out of Sora’s and Ventus’ playbooks, Roxas decided he would use the Hypertube in exactly the same way Eve had demonstrated. He summoned Oblivion to his hand and tucked the Keyblade under his boots as he jumped into the Hypertube. ”Wh-Whoa!” Roxas cried as he struggled to balance himself. This was definitely more Ventus’ thing, that was for sure. But the Nobody was determined to successfully mimic his fellow Keyblade Wielder’s style as he slowly and surely figured out how to maintain balance and control. Flow Motion helped a lot in that department, too.



Roxas was starting to get the hang of this by the time the obstacles started to become a problem. Thankfully, he’d had enough experience with Flow Motion to get himself through them. Dodging the debris and storage containers were a simple enough matter. The Naytibas were a bit more involved, requiring Roxas to occasionally slash through them with his other Keyblade or shoot through them with his RockGun. But overall it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle.

At one point a whole cluster of Naytibas tried to get in his way. Roxas responded by leaping off his Keyblade and using Flow Motion to launch himself from droid to droid, slashing through them with Keyblade strikes until the Nobody emerged on the other side of cluster where he safely put Oblivion back under his feet again to resume his transit through the Hypertube.

Honestly, slowing himself down at the end was probably the hardest part about Roxas’ transit through the Hypertube. He didn’t manage to skid himself to a slowdown but had to tumble forward to keep himself from faceplanting on the ground on the other end once he was actually out. Not seeing any Naytibas around, the Nobody breathed a sigh of relief.

Sandalphon suggested some tasks that needed doing, but Roxas was still feeling pretty down about his failure in the Security Room. A short break like the archangel had mentioned would probably do him some good right now. As such, Roxas found himself a spot to sit down and let his Pokemon out of their Poke Balls to stretch their muscles.

Scamp stuck near to Roxas, resting his head on his trainer’s lap while Turbo took advantage of the open space to drive herself around in circles and figure-eights for some exercise. Larxene just did some mock practice attacks with Titan as if anticipating some battle that might be coming. And then there was Shocker, who buzzed around playfully before noticing that Roxas had gotten the Catalogue out of his pack and was looking at its pages.

”Wanna try it out?” Roxas asked the Rotom, who buzzed with approval. ”Okay, how about… this one?” Roxas asked, holding up the Catalogue with its pages open to a certain picture. Shocker looked at it quizzically before literally flying into the page with an eager buzzing. Moments later, the Ghost type emerged from the Catalogue sporting a whole different form that made him take the shape of a floating toaster oven sporting a red line aura.

”Heat Form…” Roxas murmured to himself, using his Rotom Phone’s Pokedex to look up information on Shocker’s current form, ”Fire Blast instead of Blizzard, from the looks of it. Sounds good to me. Oh, that reminds me.” Roxas fished for the Swift TM from his bag, ”Interested in learning a new move?”

Shocker buzzed excitedly, clearly eager to try out a new move. Roxas nodded and booted up the Technical Machine. ”Let’s see… uh oh, looks like you’ll need to forget one of your current moves to make room for Swift. But which one…?” Roxas looked over Shocker’s current moves thoughtfully. He certainly didn’t want to lose Electro Ball or Fire Blast since those were Shocker’s hardest hitting attacks. So that left Double Team and Confuse Ray. Giving it some thought, Roxas realized that Turbo also possessed a means to confuse opponents, so most likely Shocker wouldn’t be missing much by forgetting how to use Confuse Ray.



”One, two, and… done.” Roxas said, ”Let’s see the new move, Shocker. Try to use Swift!” The Rotom nodded and with a buzz fired off a small volley of yellow star energy projectiles into the air. ”Nice! Now you’ll have a neutral option in case we’re battling something that Fire and Electricity won’t work against!” As for the Technical Machine, Roxas now noticed that it was cracked and broken apart. ”Guess that Poke Mart guy wasn’t kidding about them being one-time use…”

---

Ganondorf grunted when he saw how the Hypertube actually worked. Frankly, the warlord wasn’t particularly interested in trying to play a balancing act on the blade of his sword. So that made his decision for him, the Gerudo would be riding in the stagecoach. He figured it would probably be more comfortable anyway. Of course, he couldn’t possibly have known how incorrect that assumption would turn out to be.

While riding through the Hypertube, Ganondorf had to cling to the meshes of the stagecoach’s inner wall like everyone else inside. And if that wasn’t enough, the ride became bumpy and jostled their extra equipment around, including some of the spare weapons that he himself had helped gather. But luckily for Ganondorf, he did have at least one unique advantage for riding out this trip.

He was able to use the tentacles on his back to serve as extra limbs to steady himself against the stagecoach walls as well bat away objects that bounced or were thrown his way without needing to loosen his grip on the meshes. So this made the trip substantially easier for him to sit through than it otherwise would have been. But it did nothing for the Gerudo King’s mood as he seethed with irritation and annoyance.

Needless to say, Ganondorf was glad to get out of the blasted stagecoach as he climbed out with grunt and harumph. ”Hmph, bah…” He muttered to himself. Despite looking otherwise fine due to the advantages his back tentacles afforded him during the ride, he clearly didn’t look like he was in a pleasant mood for it. He grunted a sigh in response to Sandalphon’s instructions to the Seekers and the tasks that needed doing.

He more or less assumed he was about the only one capable of clearing away the vehicles to open a path. Thanks to Sectonia’s minions and his own Moblins, Ganondorf didn’t have to work alone. But even so, there was still some debris that only he was strong enough to move out of the way. What it all amounted to was that Ganondorf was not able to find time for a break like some of the others had. He did take a moment to scarf down his second and last slab of meat so that he could more speedily recover from the damage he’d taken from Belial earlier. But otherwise Ganondorf’s time was spent almost entirely on helping clear the path.

Belial was something else he was seething about. Ganondorf had hoped for an opportunity to try infecting the Naytiba with his new powers but unfortunately the fight had ended in a way that prevented him from being able to. Part of him was actually hoping Belial would show up and strike again. Not only so that Ganondorf could finish what he started, but also so he could finally have a chance to try infecting something into becoming a new minion.

So far, Ganondorf had little chance to use any of his new powers. And the King of Evil was almost itching for an opportunity to finally change that.

Yayama, after some additional exchange of pleasantries, information, and food at Quick Rise, headed out to get her matchups, and to follow up on an earlier appointment. In the chaos of having her true past revealed to her and the attack on the hotel, she’d nearly forgotten the latter. The bulletin board held what seemed like a good omen to her; the first foe Yayama was to face was someone called Buzzsaw, with another individual called Skullcrusher backing them up. Nobody that’s actually a threat calls themselves something like that. It’s ridiculous. Ideally, of course, she’d have more information about her foe than a name, but there wasn’t much time to research.

Rather than head down to the pools immediately, she proceeded as swiftly as her legs would carry her to another spot in the Middle Tier, first. An establishment by the name of Dragon Punch was where she’d agreed to meet someone before pools started, and head there together. The Warrior of Darkness needed someone to serve as her Kameo, and as it happened, she’d encountered somewhat of a kindred spirit during the time between her arrival here and her fateful meeting with a certain exploding catgirl. They’d sample the place’s signature spicy beverage before heading to their first match in the pools together.

As agreed upon, the figure standing at the Dragon Punch’s counter was a woman of the same size as Yayama, bearing a crown almost as tall as she was and a head of luxurious blonde hair. She was currently seated at the counter… a small box added to the base of the chair so that she could actually be at head level with the counter itself.

Once the telltale sign of the door opening rung out, the girl turned in her seat, smiling brightly at the sight of Yayama, “Ah, Lady Yayama! How fares your travels in this fine city? I heard of an assault on a hotel in the Mid Tier” the knight’s smile fades for a moment, replaced by an angered shake of her hand, “Such vile fiends to attack innocents before this tournament even begins… As Captain of the Lumiel Order, if I happen to find the ones responsible..!”

“Believe me, if I get my hands on whoever did that, they’re going to pay,” Yayama responded, expression darkening. “I spent last night digging through the rubble for survivors. But,” she began anew as she clambered up onto her own chair, electing to stand on the seat to reach a similar height, “we have other matters to deal with in the meantime. I have friends on the case already, so we need to prepare for the match ahead. Did you see our matchups? Never heard of this Buzzsaw or Skullcrusher, but honestly I’m not that worried based on the names.”

The woman, Charlotta, ponders the names for a moment, “I had taken it upon myself to indeed look at our matches. The names stuck out to me as odd. But I do concur, if they chose those names than they must certainly be compensating for a lack of true presence” Charlotta nods in affirmation, her confident smile returning, “They especially shall not be a match for two honorable knights like ourselves!”

“Right. So, you remember the plan, right? I’ll take the front, soak up the damage from our opponents, then you’ll come in for the coup-de-grace when I’ve got them set up. Except, you know, the part where that term generally means killing someone.” She paused briefly to answer a staff member, ordering herself a drink to go at their inquiry.

“Of course! Even in a tournament such as this, a Knight of Lumiel restrains herself from cutting their foes down! Unless they’re truly evil” Charlotta adds the final part almost sheepishly, feeling the need to make sure that Yaya knew that if things came down to it, Charlotta would certainly be ready to smite down evildoers, “But yes, I shall strike when they are at their most vulnerable. You can count on me for that!” with that said, Charlotta takes the moment to order her own drink.

Yayama nodded, not feeling the need to clarify that she agreed with said stance. “Good. We’ve got about a half hour before we need to be down to the pools, so we should probably get moving as soon as your drink gets here.” Her eyes slide down to the box, then back up to Charlotta, the lalafell visibly wondering what her plans were for it.

Charlotta simply stares back at Yayama for a moment, glancing down at the box that helped elevate her position and then back at Yaya, her expression turning serious, “A knight needs a good vantage point to be ready to face any dangers” she says, her tone completely straight even as a bead of sweat formed at the side of her head.

“I was just wondering if you were planning on carrying that down with you,” she said neutrally.

“N-No, this is just a… Temporary thing. For the seat. The owner offered it to me and I could not refuse such a generous offer” Charlotta fidgets in her seat for a moment, glancing nervously behind the counter, as if praying the drinks got here quicker so she could change the topic. Fortunately for her, they arrived almost as soon as Charlotta turned away again.

Yayama sniffed at hers out of habit, then took a careful sip. After waiting a few moments, she took a bigger one. The flavor was an unusual mix - spicy wasn’t often associated with punch, after all - but, after a moment of deliberation, she decided she liked it, and took an even larger drink. “Right then, shall we?”

“Yes, let us commence!” Charlotta said, quickly grabbing her drink and then downing a big chunk of it in one go, hopping down from her seat… Right before her face flushed completely red, “BLEGH, AWAWAWAWAWAWA-!” the knight immediately regrets her decision to down the beverage in that amount of speed.

Yayama nearly choked on her drink at the sight, trying not to get it all over the bar and its customers in the process. “Yeah, plainsfolk tend to not be as used to spice,” she said, managing to get this out with a straight face before cutting into giggles. “Come on, wipe yourself off on the way.”

Charlotta hacks a few more times, pounding a fist to her chest, “I-I did not expect so much power in a single drink. I would not attribute spice to a punch like this-” she coughs again, quickly jumping up to grab a napkin from the counter and cleaning herself off, “L-Let us be on our way! Our battle awaits!”

She reminds me of my cousin. Nanamo had always been a bit too excitable for her own good. Some said it didn’t befit a sultana, and at one point, Yayama might have agreed, but after biting multiple primals and a brief stint as some sort of swamp dweller, she wasn’t inclined to criticize.

Fortunately, their journey down to the Pools wasn’t particularly eventful. The locale itself, however, was a bit more literal than Yayama had expected. She’d seen the waterparks while traversing the other levels, of course, but hadn’t realized they were dedicated to hosting the opening bouts of tournaments. Esaka really is a strange place. That seems like something the Loporrits would come up with.

On arriving to their assigned arena, Yayama looked for a chair to climb atop to scope out their assigned opponents. After peering over the crowd for a bit, she gestured down to Charlotta to come up and see what she was looking at. “You think that’s him?” She pointed to a humanoid automaton of some sort, positively covered in circular saws. “The name’s a bit on the nose, if so.”

Charlotta clambers up onto her own chair, scanning the crowds herself, “Hrm… I would not be surprised. I pray that their partner isn’t covered in skulls as well if they’re trying to be very literal” she states, eyes narrowing slightly, looking at the people nearby the sawbladed automaton, “Either way, I can tell from here that we should not have much trouble taking them on.”

The journey through the hypertube was, for Mokou at least, a short yet fun distraction. Despite the high speeds, she had managed to get through the entire ordeal without taking a single hit, and when she exited the tube, she merely flipped in the air and fired a stream of fire as a form of brake, scorching a wall that she nearly slammed into but managing to slow herself down enough that she could safely land feet first on the wall, before kicking off of it and floating gently to the floor. The phoenix simply watches as the others come out of the tube, some gracefully, others… Less so, a small wince coming from Mokou as she witnesses the less fortunate. But, at the very least, everyone had made it through alive, and that would be enough.

Regardless, with the new goals set, Mokou tagged along with Geralt for the matter of the cargo system, her hands in her pockets as she floated just above him. With her flight, the laser defense system was incredibly easy for her to bypass… Though soon enough, the two’s paths diverged as Mokou chose to take a look into where, exactly, the cargo crates went. Thus, she followed one as it was dropped into a chute, casually flying into the gaping maw.

The sight she flew into was one of systematic order, a massive collection of cargo crates neatly arranged in machine-like faction. Regardless of the state of the place, Mokou simply floated down and investigated the area, creating a small orb of flame that floated above her head and illuminated the room. Most of the crates were locked tight, and Mokou did not feel like burning through each to find out what was inside… However, at least one cargo container lay broken open though, probably damaged by rough handling prior to its trip through the sorting system and then busted apart by the subsequent fall. A quick overview of its contents suggested that it had been a shipment of general-use space station equipment, intended for personnel with different roles.



As Mokou digs through the contents of the shipping container (whilst shoving basically everything into the oddly spacious backpack), a flicker of something strange catches her eyes from the edge of the orb’s light. Standing up and walking over to it, Mokou finds… A makeshift camp, put together hastily and abandoned just as quickly. Ordinarily, it wouldn’t seem like something that Mokou would care about… Aside from a notable device sitting near the center the size of a can, starkly out of place with the ramshackle nature of the rest of the camp. Bending down, Mokou picked up the device, tossing it into the air a few times to test its weight… Before simply placing it into her pocket and returning to the container to gather the rest of the materials. She wasn’t sure what it was, but she could investigate once she returned to the stagecoach rather than miss the group heading out.

With everything gathered though, Mokou places the now filled backpack onto her back, floating into the air and flying back through the chute she came from, waiting until another cargo crate fell down before she makes her ascent. The trip back wasn’t anything special, seeing as she could still easily fly past most of the defenses and lasers. Eventually she flies back to the stagecoach, unslinging the backpack and placing it on the ground nearby Sandalphon, “Hey, found a bunch of stuff that might help out the expedition. Also this thing here-” she states, holding up the strange device in her hand, “Not sure what it was but, decided to bring it back anyways. Seemed like it could be important.”

It was pretty nice that after everything most of the crew was still ready to tackle Esaka head on. Pit was more than ready for the day ahead and the start of the four tournaments as he finished the last of his breakfast. By day the Seekers would be fighting live, showing their strength to every participant, spectator, and dictator... and by night, if they needed to, they'd be like heroic vigilantes preventing more sneak attacks and getting to the bottom of the assassination attempt! They'd setting the score with G-Corp on Ms. Fortune's behalf or tangle with Consuls, or whoever else was targeting them, eventually coming out on top. That was the plan, anyway! They could do it, Pit knew they could.

So while the angel was getting more chipper as the morning went on, he did nearly startle when Band asked if anyone had mentioned the group's title "Seekers of Light" to anyone. He knew they were supposed to lay low, he really did (somewhere in the back of his brain), but it was so opposite to how he usually did things that it was hard to stick to. And... well, it was kinda late for it now. Even so, Pit smoothed his feathers down and breezily lied, "nope, not me!"

He didn't want to admit he might have messed up as team captain, but he also trusted Ashrah enough already that he was sure she wouldn't have anything to do with the attack last night. So it was all good. At least, as far Pit spreading the name - it seemed that Terry was worried he might have tipped some bad guys off and was trying to take the blame for everything onto himself. Well, that was something the angel wouldn't let happen!

"It's not your fault Terry!" Pit said. "I mean, even if all that stuff was true it wouldn't be anybody's fault except the people that sent those robots after us! Doesn't matter if they had a bad history with one of us, or someone stole from them... they went with a sneak attack that involved other people. The blame's all on them."

He was very sure about that, and he hoped that the South Town Hero wouldn't try and shoulder something so horrible. Thankfully the man's own thoughts seemed to distract him a little, and he turned to Kim to ask about someone they'd met the night before.

"Which thunder god?" Pit asked them both curiously. Surely not Zeus? If it was another god of thunder in Esaka, not part of that dojo of deities, then it could be... "...maybe he was talking about the Order of Light? It's only one word off! It's a dojo in the Mid-Tier, I guess a bunch of Mortal Kombat members broke away and formed it, then recruited more people."

Ashrah had told him that much, and she'd mentioned a 'Raiden' somewhere in there. It was possible that it was the same guy!

"Now that the blame game is over with, why don't we get started on our day?" Primrose said, having at some point ordered and finished a small plate for herself. She hadn't waited for a waitress to come over to collect her payment - in a cafe like this it was easier to mimic the locals and take a quick trip to the register to settle individual bills. Now that the dancer was all set though, she laid out her simple plan for herself. "I'll accompany those headed for the Pools. I want to find Ms. Fortune sooner than later, and get a feel for how these tournaments are going to go..."

And it would be prudent to have a healer on hand if needed, especially if Bowser Junior was inclined to head off on another side mission for the time being. Speaking of the prince, he and his sister brought up a good point about those not fighting using their time wisely.

"It's not a bad idea," Therion told them. Spending the time resource gathering in general. They'd already done a lot of information gathering, so what they needed now... food, shelter, money. Spirits, too, if they did want to get some use out of the demon on board the Avenger. Maybe even some fusion fodder, if it'd help. And extra supplies for the Lost Numbers if they could find some. The Koopas hardly needed a babysitter and Therion was not inclined to pretend to be one either, but his daily plans would leave him with a lot of free time, so he could tag along. Either with them, or Roland who seemed intent on getting revenge, though the thief was leaning forwards the former.

He looked at both the Fixer and Rika and Junior. "I wouldn't go after this... G-Corp, or anyone else that turns up on their side. Without a plan, anyway. You might turn the whole city into an even bigger powder keg than it already is."

And with how heroically inclined so many Seekers were, the last thing they needed was to get stuck trying to defend an entire civilian populace getting caught in the crossover of retaliation for retaliation - even if said populace were mostly martial artists of some stripe. Normally he'd leave the Seekers to their own devices, ill-thought out plans and all, but it this could actually become his problem if it escalated.

He'd said his piece though, and the only thing he added onto it was his own plan for the immediate future. "I'm gonna go visit some parlors," he said simply. By parlors he clearly meant bookies; and if he didn't want to come off as too suspicious in such places, he couldn't just show up towards the end. He'd have to bet throughout the tournament, and maybe even lose a couple of zenny. Early on would be best for that.

"I'm betting against all of you, for the record," he added, dropping his voice low. There was a hint of friendly ribbing in his voice, though when he glanced at Terry and Sakura -two supposed hotshots around here- he amended his comment. "Well, most of you."

All that was left was to settle the various tabs and head out. Therion got a head start, slipping out before the others and using the cafe's busy morning to simply skip out on his bill. Primrose waited outside while the rest of the Seekers sorted themselves out, and while they got going Pit came up next to Terry to tell him one more thing. "Psst! If you need help paying later let me know, okay?"

It was the least he could do after Terry had bought them all lunch yesterday, plus if he was going to look after the Gold Team he definitely didn't want any of them shredded to pieces over a little breakfast bill. He was out the door the next moment though, ready to head up to the next layer of Esaka.

It didn't take long before the large group reached one of the elevators that would take them up to the Pools. The area was crowded, but not so much that it was impossible to maneuver through the people gathering. It was hard to tell who was a competitor and who was just there to watch, not that it mattered much. One thing that keen eyed Seekers might notice though was that there were a few people within the crowd that appeared stiff, disciplined, and on the look out for danger. More than that though, they appeared to be destoried - not part of the Seekers, at least not to any of their knowledge, but lacking any of the traits of the gleaming.

It was most notable when a pair of women noted the group and made their way over, both of their eyes pitch dark from pupil to sclera with no hint of red in them at all. Caught off guard by this, Primrose paused and watched their approach warily. Much less worried was the team captain, who waved at them after seeing Terry, Amaterasu, and the returned Captain Falcon off when the trio headed for their arena.

"Ashrah!" he greeted to one of the women happily, though he just as easily turned his smile on the one beside her.

"Good morning Pit," Ashrah replied. She raised a hand and gestured lightly to her companion. "This is Sareena, whom I mentioned would be the Order of Light's representative this time. She is also my sister."

The demoness nodded, a little less at ease than Ashrah was. She looked over the gathered Seekers. "Ashrah has told me about... you all. There are thanks to be given, but I suppose now is not the time."

Primrose raised a brow, glancing at Ashrah. She didn't recall ever meeting the woman before, but then again she thought she recalled Pit mentioning something about a kameo partner. It wasn't hard to put two and two together after that.

"I'm going ahead to the Mortal Kombat area," she said, then tipped her head lightly at the pair of demons. "A pleasure to meet you."

The sisters responded likewise even though Primrose did not give her name as she left, and Pit didn't offer it for her. He just nodded and said, "see you there!"

Now that they were already generally where they needed to be, Sakura mentioned killing the remaining time with some training. Specifically by throwing and dodging fireballs. Sareena looked over at her, and with a voice that was much more serious than the young street fighter's she said, "the girl speaks truth."

"I've had more than enough practice with that," Pit laughed in reply though.

After a brief moment Sareena spoke again, her dark eyes trained on Pit this time. "I've reviewed the brackets already. It seems we will be facing each other sooner than later. I understand you have a mission you need to complete, but so do we."

Pit looked back at her, blinking once before a grin spread on his face. "Soooo you're saying you're not gonna go easy on us?"

Ashrah smiled too, though it was a small one. "I should hope not. It will be good training to face each other seriously. Our goals are aligned, so it does not matter which of us wins... though I suspect it will be us."

There was a spark of competition in Sareena's eyes, the kind that could be found among any pair of siblings, by blood or not. She smirked. "We shall see."

By then the Seekers were splitting up more to head to their own areas of the Pools. Now that the first match was imminent, Pit was excited. He let Ashrah and Sareena lead him over to where the Kombat participant matches were generally to be held, and along the way he had the chance to actually study one of the posted bulletins with the match ups. When he found his name he traced his finger down to the next little box where he and Ashrah's first opponents would be listed.

John Smith... why does that sound familiar?

It's not exactly a unique name. Might as well be John Doe.

I know right? Wonder what his deal's gonna be.

The angel looked over the other names, finding Yayama and Ms. Fortune in the same tourney list as him. So they'd been accepted too. He read the other tournament rosters as well, mostly having fun just seeing how everyone's names were shaped when written out but also confirming that everyone who'd registered had indeed been approved and would be fighting. While he read on, he did notice something a little... odd.

Huh? Is that... Juri's name? But isn't this MK? He double checked to make sure, and yup - Juri Han was listed as fighting not in World Warrior, but in Mortal Kombat. That's weird, I thought for sure... I mean she seemed like she really had a bone to pick with that Bison guy.

But if she was fighting in Mortal Kombat, then that meant she was probably around the area! Pit glanced at Ashrah and Sareena as they chatted on the water's edge, having already found both of their assigned stages. "I'm gonna go check something, be right back!"

While Pit sought out the elusive Spider, another Seeker was on her way to seek out a different missing member of the team. Primrose had passed by Yayama and another diminutive woman, amusement passing her features as she glanced at the two of them trying to see over the crowd. Their match wasn't where she was headed though, and so the dancer continued on. 'M-12' was the designated area she was looking for, and it wasn't long until she arrived.

At first glance she was immediately drawn to the silhouette of someone that resembled her friend, but it was quickly apparent that this robot was not the same person. It was a little suspicious though... first Nadia disappeared, and now there was a machine that strongly resembled her? A... replacement, maybe? Had Nadia been kidnapped after all?

Though Primrose continued to move casually, there was a coldness in her expression that made those in her way get out of it quickly. Her gaze flickered over the marble area, the beautiful statue and fountain that stood near M-12's arena, but she couldn't appreciate any of it. She sorted out the onlookers from the fighters, and all she saw besides Robo-Fortune was a pair of ugly half-flesh, half-metal men looking eager to fight and another figure in a brown hood. A figure that was currently in the middle of cutting up pieces of their own outfit, revealing tanned and scarred skin beneath. A figure that had a calico-colored tail flicking back and forth as it poked out from under the coat, and who appeared be missing an entire arm.

Primrose did not have to be a detective to deduce that this was Ms. Fortune, incognito. Or trying her best to be, perhaps. Tension loosened its grip on Primrose, and she quietly made her way over to the hooded figure. Since there might be a reason that Nadia chose to dress like this, even if her other clothes had been ruined in the explosions, she did not call out her friend's name. Instead, once she was close enough that the pair of catgirls could spot her if they weren't preoccupied, Primrose simply offered a small smile before speaking.

"Excuse me~ It looks like you could use a hand," she said, her voice so deceptively innocent that it could be nothing but a joke of an ice breaker.

---

---

After safely traversing the distance of the Hypertube and settling down on the opposing end for a moment of rest for the group, Ramattra had taken the time with Sandaphlon to help reassemble the interior of the Stagecoach. Seeing as how, other than the two new guests, they were the most technologically intelligent, it only made sense for him to help clean up the clutter from within. Perhaps he and Edward could have taken the time earlier to quickly secure and fashion the interior for transport. Everyone else held to their assigned tasks, which left Ramattra with a lot of upkeep work for the stagecoach.

Along with that, he held onto equipment he wished to inquire about with Eve in their passing moment. The Omnic would excuse himself from assisting the Archangel with cleaning up to approach the cyborg woman and ask about the coming area. “So, I’m unsure about a lot of the landmarks in the Highlands. Would there be someone who could help me install a part into my frame ahead, on the opposite side of the Spire where we are headed?”

He produced the exospine for Eve to see and even allowed her to see the back of his metallic chassis for reference to its installation. There seemed to be more than enough room for the hardware to be installed against, but whether the technology was fully compatible or not was also what the Omnic was concerned about. “The equipment would go here and would require access into my chassis… but do you think it would be possible?” Once he had his answer, the Omnic was content and thanked Eve for her time before pocketing his equipment again and looking for more tasks to do while they were parked.

Which was until Tenna approached the poor Omnic he believed he had befriended, and hugged him from the side. Having seen a wide variety of oddities now in this world, the TV man’s silly nature had slowly dulled Ramattra’s temper toward the wild card. It seemed that the only one who still had work left on building the fusion machine was. “Ah. Tenna. Would you mind coming with me? You seem horribly… preoccupied,” Which had been the Omnic’s way of challenging the CRT’s competence on such an important journey. Tenna joined without much convincing and followed behind as Ramattra led them towards where the fusion machine was being arranged.

After Edward had assembled and tinkered with the fusion machine according to the blueprints, he created two beasts and left the assembly of the rest to Ramattra and Tenna. Ramattra was unsure whether Edward had fully explored the machine's full capabilities or if assembly had worn him out, but the task was simple enough once The Omnic got a handle on the controls.

“So… It appears we can swap out various parts, add unique ones, etcetera…” Ramattra wasn’t super comfortable going in-depth, explaining how the machine worked, especially given he didn’t fully expect Tenna to listen, but theconsole screen made it somewhat self-explanatory at the very least. “And we have collected plenty of samples on our trek…”

Tenna scratched his smooth head for a moment. “If we were using those reindeer monster-guys to pull us along before, why not use their samples as a blueprint!” He was annoyingly optimistic in Ramattra’s opinion, but Tenna’s idea was pretty good, quick-thinking, and earned him some merit. Plus, the donation of more samples from Geralt meant Ramattra had quite a playground to work with.

Selecting out various parts from the creatures they’ve surveyed so far on the Midnight Walk, Ramattra opted to keep the fusion creatures as simple as possible, to avoid making a mess of a creature, which, with a bit of playing around, he found was very possible. Inserting samples of the Reindrix, Shieldon, and Somnacanth, they had come across. Although they had collected quite a hoard of bio-material to work with, the Omnic thought it best only to replace what of the steeds they had lost. Along with that, Ramattra thought that the marsh was an example of what damage the terrain was capable of. The Omnic thought it would be smart to create a beast capable of traversing through shallow water.

Though another thought that crossed Ramattra’s mind was capturing the monsters, he knew some of his party members used capture devices for the original Reindrix and small companion beasts, but was worried about the nature of the simulated monsters. Before creating any creatures, Ramattra would make use of the Armory, taking two of the rope coils from its storage if the beasts were hostile.

Following the machine's instructions, Ramattra would finally begin simulating a new team of creatures to pull the Stagecoach throughout the rest of the Midnight Walk.



With the beasts generated and ready for deployment on the Stagecoach, Tenna waited nearby with the Rope Coils, tying those of the fusion beasts he could until a permanent solution for them could be met. He split into Tennalings and apprehended as many new lifeforms as he could.

While Tenna cleaned up the end of Ramattra’s experiment, the Omnic had hoped one of his team members had capturing devices at the ready, or a way to tame the beasts to be more docile.

The Omnic also took note of Roxas’ Rotom, and how its previous form was some form of Encyclopedia for monsters. He wanted to investigate the device before he knew it was a lifeform that was now transformed; however, that brought a new curiosity to Ramattra’s mind. Were there any other encyclopedia-type devices that may share insights into other worlds like that Pokedex?... Could they perhaps expand it to other worlds? He hummed at the notion, That will have to be something to discuss with Sandaphlon later… Hmm… he thought, before returning to the group with the bound, albeit somewhat aggressive ShielDrixes, ready to be coaxed into pulling the Stagecoach, along with the aloof Somnadrix, that looked entirely landbound with its waterlegs.

Mere moments after Nadia left Button Check in her roguish new getup, the sight of a curbside bulletin board, gleaming with effulgent golden letters, reminded her that Esaka’s newest series of tournament was just about to begin. With no time to lose, she hurriedly bid Annie farewell and bolted away at top speed, her hood flying off as her coattails fluttered behind her. Asymmetrical thanks to her missing arm, she quickly found that her balance was off as she ran, and did her best to compensate on the fly as she dodged pedestrians and vaulted obstacles. The Pools might be only a short sprint and a long fall away, but there was no telling where exactly her first match was supposed to take place, so she couldn’t afford to dilly-dally.

For now, her rigging pack and Kagari Rokushikisouken box cutters would have to remain in the NMO dojo where she left them yesterday, though maybe that was for the best. Versatility in abilities and arsenal paid dividends on cross-country adventures, but in serious fights against skilled opponents, Nadia thought it wiser to pare her options down to her tried-and-true favorites, the weapons and powers she’d built up synergy and muscle memory with. Skating through the Pools with the help of Massachusetts’ shipgirl rigging had been a blast, but walking on water wouldn’t do her much good if going out of bounds in a pools match resulted in a ring out. As she made for the perimeter of Esaka’s Middle Tier, Nadia couldn’t help but laugh at herself; if she really had a head on her shoulders, she would have spent last night practicing her combos and mixups instead of getting drunk, ambushed, and then blown up. Instead she was tired, bedraggled, and mentally unsound. No matter how bad she felt, though, she knew she couldn’t back out now, not when winning Mortal Kombat would be her the one thing that might buy back the other Seekers’ respect. Getting through today would be her toughest challenge so far, and she’d need to put on her bravest face yet.

As she closed in on the tier’s edge, Nadia took a deep breath, then dove over the railing.

The Pools tier unfolded beneath her, an enormous donut-shaped water park of unremarkable stone or wood arenas connected by a variety of bridges and walkways. The feral plummeted, her heart pounding as fresh adrenaline coursed through her veins and the brisk wind whipped at her hair and clothes alike. Beneath her the water sparkled in the morning sunlight. The stone brick surged closer and closer as onlookers stopped and stared, stunned and wondering if she’d survive the fall. Nadia didn’t know either, but the raw life-or-death exhilaration of freefall cleared her head just enough for her bravado to grab hold. She twisted around in mid-air, hardened her claws, and jammed them into the sheer stone wall behind her. “Hrrrrrrrrrgh!” Her muscles strained, tight as a drum, and her arm threatened to wrench itself free from her socket, but she willed her fibers to hold together as they stretched like bungee cords.

After a tense couple moments, she slid to a stop a few dozen feet above the water’s surface. In front of her, two fighters who’d already taken their places on a floating raft watched, taken aback. One, a girl with a spiky blonde ponytail and a chain attached to her ripped jeans, seemed dumbfounded, while the other, a darkly-dressed edgelord with very baggy pants, gave her an unamused golf clap. “Nice stunt,” he said dryly. “If I were you, though, I’d save my energy for the matches.”

“Oh, don’t you worry!” Planting her Mantreads against the wall, Nadia leaped forward, flipped, and landed on her feet between the two fighters. When she raised her claws, their edges sharpened like razors after their grind through solid stone, they practically glinted. “I’ve got purr-lenty to go around!”

She ran across the raft, her tail waving with excitement. Another jump brought her to the nearby pier, and when she glanced back at the floating arena she’d just landed on, she spotted ethereal golden characters on its surface. W-37, she read. That must be setup thirty-seven for the World Warrior, then, and she was looking for setup M-12. Nadia looked around, grimacing. Her designated arena could be anywhere, and with no clocks around to tell the time, she couldn’t tell how many minutes remained before the tournament officially began. Would failure to show up on time result in an instant disqualification? Oh boy. Maybe going to fetch her shipgirl rigging from the dojo would’ve been a worthwhile detour after all. “Well, no time to lose,” Nadia muttered to herself with an air of resignation.

She dashed off, searching high and low for any sign of her designated battleground. It was slower going than she would have liked, in part because she couldn’t use the water like she normally could. In fact, with her new costume, getting soaked would be a major detriment, so Nadia had to put her agility to the test to stay both mobile and dry in a place with precious little solid ground. She had no choice but to pressurize her limbs with blood and blast it out to boost herself through the air, trusting in the Life Gem’s power to replenish her reserves by the time she needed it for kombat.

Within a few minutes, she’d reached the quarter of the Pools allotted for the Mortal Kombat qualifiers, judging by all the arena codes with the ‘M’ prefix. Nadia’s nerves only got worse as she darted around the area, though. With the seconds ticking down, she tensed up as if expecting to be struck with a disqualification at any second. In the midst of her panicked search, however, she received a surprise in the form of a bright pink laser beam, fired straight up into the sky. The feral recognized it instantly, of course. “Robo!” The cybernetic catgirl she’d coerced into being her Kameo was already where she needed to be, and in her mounting impatience had fired off one of her death rays into the sky as a makeshift beacon. “Hang on, Tin Cans, I’m comin’!”

Nadia raced toward the source of the pink beam, scrambling over stone brick bridges and leaping between perilous pillars. Finally she spotted her destination: a smooth stone platform at the edge of the Pools. The fighting ground was simple enough, a flat and unembellished distended hexagon shaped like a tapered trapezoid atop a cube, but the architecture around it was remarkably ornate. Water flowed out beneath gothic arches that stood on the tier’s perimeter, cascading down to a river that wound through the Low Tier. An ornate stone balustrade between the pillars that flanked the arena provided the only protection one could expect against a ring out. With a large, elaborate fountain nearby, where a couple dozen parabolic arcs of water streamed out beneath the statue of a winged pegasus, it was a shockingly picturesque battleground for the very first match of a tournament.

Unfortunately, Nadia’s prospective opponents -also present and accounted for- were nowhere near as aesthetic pleasing. Both appeared to be monstrous cyborgs, with heavy-duty tech weapons grafted onto living bodies. One at least resembled a human with visible skin, eyes, and green cargo pants, though the reactor planted in his chest, built-in respirator, and menacing robotic arms tipped with giant rotor blades meant that Purge was anything but natural. His partner, meanwhile, was simply a giant green mutant made into a living weapon, complete with fearsome steel teeth.

Of course, Robo wasn’t much better. Though her metallic faceplate betrayed nothing, something about her cold dead stare told Nadia that her doohickey doppelganger was livid. Despite Nadia’s hood, her copycat seemed to recognize her at a glance. “You are late,” she intoned, her buzzy electronic voice harsh and flat.

“Fashionably late,” Nadia corrected with a wink. “Gotta keep you on your toes…ster. Toaster, get it?”

“Sigh.” If Robo could have rolled her eyes, Nadia suspected she would have. Instead she turned them on the enemy team, and the real feral followed her gaze.

The cat burglar grinned as she sized up the opposition. “Sigh-borg, you mean. I mean, look at these guys! Who’re you grease monkeys supposed to be?”

“I am Purge! Though soon, you may come to know me as ‘your worst nightmare’!” As if he’d been waiting for the opportunity, the wannabe helicopter stepped forward to announce himself. Nadia guessed that he must be the leader, and the green one his Kameo. “And this is Ssapo. Say hi, Ssapo.”

Ssapo snapped his huge metal teeth together. Clang, clang!

Nadia sucked in air through her own teeth as she grimaced. “Ooh, uh, sorry bud, but you’re a little early I think. Wasn’t expecting you ‘til tooth-hurty!”

Purge stared, his lifeless white eyes unblinking. “The chatty type, eh? You ought to save your breath.” He reached out a giant arm, rotating his four fingers as he spread them wide, then clamped them together in the direction of Nadia’s throat. “You’ll need every last one!”

Nadia didn’t respond, since she was busy altering her outfit. It proved to be a little tricky with just one arm, but a few quick, precise cuts were all it took to reduce her sleeves and pant legs to workable lengths. With her seams unobstructed, her one-of-a-kind fighting style would be firing on all cylinders. Purge just watched for a few moments, dumbfounded, before he found his voice. “What...what are you doing?”

“Huh?” Nadia looked up, her electric blue eyes wide within the shadow of her hood. “Oh, nothing. Just gettin’ comfortable. What, never seen a girl be-fur?”

“No! I mean, yes, I have! Obviously!” Purge averted his gaze, his eyes narrowed. It ended up on Ssapo, who clanked his teeth together again, which seemed to annoy Purge further. “Hmph!”

At that moment, Nadia’s ears twitched beneath her hood at the sound of familiar footfalls. She turned her head and spotted Primrose approaching. She stiffened up, her mouth agape for a brief moment, but rather than speak a word the feral tentatively swallowed. She hadn’t expected to run into another Seeker so soon, though maybe in retrospect it should’ve been obvious someone would figure out where to find her. Paralyzed, Nadia could only watch and wait for Primrose to make the first move.

Rather than rebukes or accusations, though, the dancer offered her a missing limb. After a second, Nadia let out a relieved breath, then took the arm and reattached it to its stump. When she closed her first and tightened her muscles, blood spurted out from her seams. “Well, how about that,” she managed. Though her sheepish smile was hidden beneath her hood, Primrose could probably see the feral’s gratitude in her eyes. “Appreciate you goin’ out on a limb for me.” With that, the two women drew apart, and Nadia turned a mischievous look on purge. “Guess you don’t get a hand-icap after all.”

The cyborg scoffed. “Pah. Didn’t need one anyway.”

Rolling her eyes, Nadia looked over at Robo-fortune, one eyebrow raised. “When’s the tournament start, again? I’m bored~”

---

Slowly, the Seekers of Light made their way out of Quick Rise, through the Low Tier, and toward the nearest lift to the Pools. Despite the general hubbub among both Esaka residents and yokai alike, it wasn’t exactly a stampede. The people here were all fighters of some stripe, but comparatively few planned to fight in this tournament series, and even fewer would be headed up to watch matches this early in the tournament. While not familiar with Esaka’s tournament culture just yet, Band could more or less guess why. In any given tournament, the number of elite combatants that people wanted to see would probably be vastly outnumbered by low to mid-level fighters trying their luck, who formed the bulk of the fighting community. That meant a lot of bouts between unknowns or one-sided stomps to get through before quality matches happened, and judging by the tournament schedule, that could easily take days. Band still had no idea how all this would be televised, but that was probably a factor, too. Still, there were at least enough people on their way to the tier lift that he and the others didn’t need to bug Terry for guidance.

It seemed like Terry had enough to deal with already, after all. Band glanced at the Hungry Wolf as the Seekers closed in on the elevator, his side-eye furtive and a little dubious. Though the burly blond put on an easygoing, cheerful air, making himself out to be an irrepressible everyman that the others could always lean on, Band could see by now that trouble brewed beneath the surface. Now where had he heard that one before? A shame Ms Fortune hadn’t been around to handle the solvable problem of Terry being broke, especially after he treated her to lunch the day before. The real eyebrow-raiser was how he blamed himself out of the blue for the attack on Banishing Flats, while absolving the catgirl who probably was the most at fault. After making connections that were tenuous at best, he went on to describe himself as beyond forgiveness, and more of a burden than a boon to the team.

All the while, Band had treated him to an increasingly incredulous stare. Part of him wanted to tell the younger man to snap out of it and quit being so melodramatic, but he didn’t know Terry well enough to determine if a little tough love was what he needed. Thus, in the interest of not actually doing more harm than good, the detective held his tongue and let Pit console him. Clearly the man had a lot more inner conflict going on than one might expect. Band could only hope that he got his head in the game by the time fists started flying.

Terry had dropped one important clue, though. As Band stepped aboard the tier lift and turned away from the inner city to watch the Low Tier recede beneath him, he mulled over the unlikely detail that Terry managed to remember. Apparently, the thunder god he, Harry, and Kim encountered yesterday had actually used the term ‘Seekers of Light’. If either of the other detectives remembered letting that name slip, this Raiden could be the lead that Roland or another investigator needed. If neither Harry nor Kim gave away the team’s name, though, they might have come even closer to the culprit than they realized. Plus, now that the Seekers had a thunder god involved, Band could help but remember that all-too-sudden storm surge from last night. Making connections where none existed was a common pitfall, of course, but still. A good detective left everything on the table.

In short order, the elevator crested the edge of the Pools. Band and the others stepped out into the tier, consulted the nearest bulletin board, and parted ways to hunt down the simple stages where they’d fight their first matches. The cyborg had been here before when traveling between the Low and Middle Tiers, of course, but today the Pools were an entirely different beast. Instead of scattered sightseers or lonesome ponderers, today’s water park hosted a smorgasbord of fighters from all walks of life. Those not bustling to and fro in search of their own battlegrounds were warming up with stretches or drills as they waited for the tournament to begin. Some sized up their opponents and traded barbs, while others chatted with old friends or rivals. Despite the looming competition, the atmosphere was fairly casual for now. Among the scattered yokai already haunting the venue, Band spotted one high above water level with an unusual camera in its hands. Maybe that was how tournament matches would be broadcasted throughout Esaka’s lifestream?

As one might expect of the city’s biggest and most popular tournament, World Warrior demanded the lion’s share of the available Pools setups, so even though the Seekers arrived in that section, it would take a while for Band, Sakura, and Harry to find their stations. Looking at the enormous number of would-be street fighters around here, it was hard not to be intimidated; the Seekers numbered just three in a pool of two hundred and fifty six competitors, all vying for the chance to lay their hands on Bison. According to his encounters yesterday, Kim Wu, Balrog, and TJ Combo should all be here, but even Band couldn’t pick them out of the visual chaos. He did, however, manage to find his own destination: arena W-119. This took the form of a roughly circular stone circle of pitted, porous stone brick, ornamented with a large rug that sported an emerald-colored bump in the very middle. A large stone statue in poor condition rose from the water on one side, a venomous smirk on her timeworn face. Band seemed to be the first one here, so after jumping over from a nearby bridge he settled in to wait.

He wasn’t left waiting for long. Just minutes later, he spotted a man walking the same bridge he did, headed toward the arena. The stranger wore his long brown hair and beard unstyled, along with a simple slate blue robe with bright yellow highlights. When he gathered himself up and leaped over the water, his robe fluttered upward like a parachute, and after catching a glimpse of pale skin Band looked away before he could observe whether or not the man was wearing anything underneath it. Once the stranger landed opposite him and dusted himself off, Band cleared his throat. “So. You’re Mr. Rasputin, I take it?”

“Oh, yes! Grigori Rasputin, at your service!” Rasputin replied in a singsong voice. “And you must be Big Band. I must say, you certainly fit the bill…” He spread his arms wide, a wild smile on his face. “I come to you today in the name of love, to preach an end to mankind’s endless cycle of violence!”

Big furrowed his brow, blinking. “To…a fighting tournament?”

Rasputin bowed. “Of course! To purge ourselves of our temptations, we must face and overcome them first-hand, be it on the battlefield or in the bedroom!”

“Uh huh…” Band couldn’t help but chuckle dryly at the strange man’s mission statement. “Guess you got your work cut out for ya, pal.”

At that, Rasputin just smiled and closed one fist, which sparked with electricity, sparkled with ice, and blazed with embers. “Certainly. But love will always triumph!”

Just then, the serpentine airborne streams of ghostly energy that flowed around and throughout Esaka began to surge. Enough spread throughout the city’s tiers, including the Pools, that every makeshift arena received at least one. Other fighters quickly leaned into the ethereal currents, including Rasputin, so Band went ahead and followed suit. When he did, he experienced a brief, dizzying burst of psychedelic colors and voices, but after a moment they resolved into the image of a balcony. It featured a set of double doors flanked by two crimson banners on both sides, one representing each tournament. Band couldn’t identify what building this balcony might be attached to, but judging by the architecture and the way the banners fluttered in the wind, it could easily be one of the towers in the Top Tier. This, he quickly realized, wasn’t just how the tournaments would be commenced; the commencement would be announced by the infamous Four Kings themselves.

The double doors slammed open, and one by one the overlords of Esaka strode through. Out first swaggered a brolic warlord clad in little more than spiky red armor and a skull-faced helmet, the cruel and mighty Shao Kahn, who reveled in the bloodsport called Mortal Kombat. Next, in sharp contrast to his predecessor’s practically naked villainy, sauntered a gentleman in lavish crimson attire, the wine in his glass as ruby-red as his right eye. His curtains of neck-length blond hair and rectangular mustache marked him as Rugal Bernstein, notorious statue collector who stood alone as the undisputed King of Fighters. Even now two black panthers slunk along at his heels, either impeccably trained or simply cowed by his overwhelming presence. After him came the man with an impressive mustache and shocks of gray hair, the huge muscles visible beneath his black karate gi weathered and scarred from a lifetime of use. This was Heihachi, who ruled the Tekken tournament with an iron fist, and though every bit as prideful as he the others he put on no airs to exaggerate his self-evident strength. Finally, white eyes blazed in the darkness, and out into the light of day strode M. Bison, every inch the ruthless dictator who reigned over the World Warrior tournament. He alone grinned wildly into the camera, as if imaging one face in particular whose shock and horror he yearned to relish.

As each man took up his position in front of his banner, one more figure stepped out onto the balcony. This one belonged to a woman, clad like three of the four kings in red, with a black satin cape at her back and a tall helmet upon her head. The purple eyes of the lady consul stared impassively as the door closed behind her and she stood, hands clasped behind her back, between the Four Kings.

Just as he arrived first, Shao Kahn was the first to speak first. “Fighters of Esaka! Welcome back to the stage of history!” he roared with the vigor of a seasoned announcer. “Are you ready to fight, bleed, and die? Do you have what it takes to claim victory and glory everlasting? Or will you drown in the Pools, wasted and forgotten? Steel yourselves, and struggle with every last drop of your strength! Climb the mountain we call Esaka, if you dare, and throw yourselves at the feet of your gods!”

“Before you begin!” Though Heihachi spoke in what was clearly Japanese, everyone understood him somehow. “Know that there are cowards in your midst. Last night, G-Corporation perpetrated a vile and underhanded attack on a beloved establishment in the Middle Tier. This is only their latest outrage, and it is past time we held them accountable. Starting today, my Mishima Zaibatsu will lead the charge to wipe G-Corporation from the face of Esaka, once and for all! And if one of you brings me the head of Kazuya Mishima, you will find yourself amply rewarded.” He held up a single finger. “An audience with the Heavenly Principles themselves!”

After a brief pause, Bison let out a guttural laugh. “But that’s not all that happened last night. Yesterday evening, a feeble, paltry attempt was made on my life.” Still wearing his horrific rictus grin, Bison clenched his fist and rose into the air. “Yet here I stand, stronger than ever! So know this, vermin. Such pathetic tricks are the last resort of weaklings and losers, incapable of becoming World Warrior!” He pounded his fist into the palm of his other hand in a burst of psycho power. “So if you really want me dead, come! Fight through the bracket, and give me your best shot!” He let out a malevolent laugh as he drifted back down. “I’ll be waiting.”

Rugal sipped his wine, then cleared his throat as he adjusted his tie. “And there you have it, fighters. Come and get us, if you can. And try not disappoint the Lady Consul, hmm? The tournaments start…now!”

The vision blurred, the lifestreams receded, and the fighting began.



After leaving Blazermate to try and puzzle her way through the security checkpoint’s training program, Sandalphon returned to sort out the mess that the stagecoach’s interior had become. While Ace worked on the exterior to repair some of the damage done to the vehicle’s black steel armor, the archangel meticulously sorted through the expedition’s fallen equipment alongside Ramattra, though like the monster hunter she kept an eye out for any sign of Belial. After all, few opponents encountered by the Seekers possessed both raw destructive power and dangerous intelligence, and fewer still managed to survive a fight with the heroes in order to threaten them again later. For her part, Sandalphon used External Information Network to run scans of the area at regular intervals, perhaps to excess, though in her mind one could never be too careful.

For now, though, her scans returned no signs of any potential enemies in the immediate area, aside from the Traffikrabs and Delibird. With Heismay still outside, perched atop the stagecoach as a fully dedicated lookout, she could feel reasonably confident that the team could spot any would-be ambushers in time, especially in such an open area like this. Only airborne foes could get the drop on them now, but in a way those high-yield explosive turrets that Heismay discovered provided a sense of reassurance, promising that any enemy fliers would be pulverized the minute they entered the local airspace. As such, the only things falling from the skies were fresh snowflakes, gently raining down from the dark clouds high above as the Frozen Highlands’ temperature slowly continued to drop, one fraction of a centimeter at a time. The warm glow of the stagecoach’s lamps and stewpot provided what little heat the Seekers had, and the soft, Aeolian song of the chimes drifted away in the wind.

When Sectonia had her antlers clear the traffic jam by the security gate, of course, the noise of scraping metal and skidding tires was quite hideous. Heismay grimaced as he watched the giant bugs work for a few moments, glad that his long ears were currently tucked inside his parka’s hood. Having scoped out the gridlock earlier while accompanying Sandalphon to the security booth, he had briefly wondered if there might be some method to the madness–a way to slide the vehicles around so that a path could be created between them without destroying anything. It wasn’t like the team needed those strange contraptions, though, so the scorched earth approach worked just as well. Soon Sectonia’s underlings had the road more or less clear, the route straight to the checkpoint flanked by lanes of smoking, sparking mechanical wreckage. The area now looked like a junkyard, but it would suit the Seekers’ purposes as long as they found a way to open that gate. Heismay certainly wasn’t about to brave those guard turrets to try and find gate controls on the other side, and in his eyes Sectonia was wise to not try her luck either.

Not long after Sandalphon finished organizing the stagecoach interior, pleased with everything now firmly fastened into place, her communication sigil manifested at her cheek. Geralt reported that he’d reached some sort of control center, indicating that he’d made it through the cargo sorting system without any apparent issue, and that he would open the way. Sure enough, a klaxon sounded out from the direction of the security checkpoint, and when Sandalphon stepped out into the cold to look, she saw the two-story metal barrier sliding open. As the gate receded, it revealed the sight that Heismay briefly glimpsed earlier before ducking away from the guard turrets’ targeting lasers: a stretch of tarmac pitted by large, irregular holes. There were a variety of military vehicles as well, all destroyed wrecks. At the far side, the words Raphael Space Center still shone like new over the main entrance to said facility, so near and yet so far.

“Oh, just a moment, by the way.” Heismay hopped down, landed beside Sandalphon, and offered her a device shaped like a tuna can. “Adam said this is called a Legacy. It contains the partial account of a woman named Raven. Nothing too important, I don’t think, but I figured you’d want to know.”

Sandalphon nodded and accepted the item. “Thank you, I certainly do. Even things that may seem irrelevant at first glance may reveal their significance later on.”

As the wind picked up and the snowfall quickened, the Seekers reunited and got ready to move. Ramattra and Edward worked together to hitch the newly-created Shieldrix to the stagecoach. Despite appearances, the creatures were one hundred percent obedient to their creator, as if they had no will of their own. Meanwhile, Adam and Eve rejoined the main team from the side path they’d taken, accompanied not just by the scavenger’s drone but by a damaged drop pod on an automated cargo trolley. “Hey!” Eve called, waving. “Sorry, but could anyone lend us a hand here, perhaps?”

Adam quickly explained the situation. “We tracked down Lily’s signal to this pod, meaning she’s trapped inside. Problem is, the lock’s jammed, so no matter how much I try to hack it, I can’t do a damn thing.” He looked around at the Seekers with a helpless shrug. “Don’t suppose any of you happens to be a locksmith?”

That made Roxas perk an ear, "Leave it to me." He offered, finally cheered up a bit from his earlier dour mood. He let Adam and Eve lead him to the drop pod and immediately summoned one of his Keyblades, "This should work." He said as he confidently brandished the black blade of Oblivion and tapped it gently on the drop pod's doors. With a groan, the lock literally unjammed itself and opened, allowing the drop pod's door to also open along with it.

"My weapons can open any lock." Roxas said, offering a brief explanation.

Once the door slid open, out popped a short-haired young woman with a weather-inappropriate outfit and an extreme Cockney accent. “Whew, thanks bruv! I’ve been stuck there for ages! Dunno how this keeps happenin’, I’ve got such rotten luck with these bleedin’ pods…” After stretching her arms, she reached back in and pulled out a toolbox almost half as big as she was. “Alright, back in business! What’s next?”

Eve looked over at the Raphael Space Center. “The space elevator’s in there, and it’s our ticket to the Alpha Naytiba. If anything’s broken, we’ll be needing you to get it operational, Lily.”

The pint-sized engineer nodded enthusiastically. “Just leave it to me!” she declared with a salute. With that, she and Adam made for the stagecoach, while Eve remained outside to help escort the wagon onward. In fact, with only a short ride to the space center, few Seekers decided to hitch a ride. Even Sandalphon proceeded on foot, wary that the guard turrets might take their sights off the skyline, among other things.

Her concerns proved well-founded, as a handful of Naytiba droid and borg variants appeared to obstruct the Seekers’ path. With this many heroes on call, though, they weren’t much of a threat. As Heismay advanced to bite at the Naytibas’ ankles with his saber blade, and make openings for his allies to strike, Sandalphon lent fire support from the rear. Now that everyone present saw her as their leader, she could use her rifle without having to stand atop a blue tile, which made advancing into enemy territory much more convenient. Her task was easy enough that when Mokou arrived with another Legacy from the storehouse beneath the sorting system, Sandalphon could listen to it without breaking stride. “Thank you, Mokou.” Click.

“Day 52nd after the 2nd dive. 5th record. Legacy account Raven. I am the lone survivor. The truth…the truth always lets me down. I have gathered a good amount of information from the lab’s records and the memories of Legion’s soldiers. We’ve always followed the instructions of Mother Sphere to the letter. She was our guiding light, our salvation, our god. However…in truth, Mother Sphere was a powerful artificial intelligence created by mankind. In the distant past there was an engineer named Raphael Marks. He was her creator. Mother Sphere brought great prosperity to mankind, but…she seemed to have changed her mind upon the creation of Andro-Eidos, her self-made counterpart.”

“Perhaps I should have listened to the first record first,” Sandalphon muttered as she pulled her hexagun’s trigger. In a magical flash, a sentryborg was transformed into a harmless chicken, which clucked in confusion.

“After seeing the limits of humanity and the potential of Andro-Eidos…she decided there was no room to spare for mankind. Our god is not the god of humans. Then…why? Why do we worship Mother Sphere? I don’t know anymore. The more I learn, the more questions I’m left with. Everything…puzzles me.”

With that, the recording ended, just a few seconds short of the firefight as the Seekers cleared out the last couple Naytibas between them and Raphael Space Center. Raven’s recording left Sandalphon with a few questions, but it left Eve confounded and more than a little dismayed. “That…was borderline blasphemous,” she remarked, her brow knit with concern. “I’m certain some of my sisters would wish to destroy that Legacy outright. Yet…I cannot shake a sensation of doubt and dread deep within me.”

Sandalphon put away her rifle and summoned her gunstaff to use as a walking stick. “In this world, there is no shortage of false gods,” she mentioned off-handedly. “I would recommend getting used to the concept.”



Thanks to Geralt, the front door of the Raphael Space Center was wide open. Once inside, Heismay could look up and see that the entire structure was a single domed atrium, far larger than Krat Zoo’s greenhouse, its ceiling a gargantuan lattice of metal beams and glass with a center dominated by the space elevator. The lift itself, which was for all intents and purposes a three-story cylindrical building, sat beneath an enormous tube. To the Renaissance-era eugief, it was a flabbergasting technological marvel, yet even here in this sanctuary of circuits and steels he could see the evidence of corruption. Here and there Heismay spotted large deposits of Naytiba biomass, each clump of tumors the center of a rootlike web of tendrils slowly creeping across the structure. Worse still, the floor was littered with the corpses of soldiers, despite the World of Light’s disintegration rule. The whole place filled him with a profound sense of unease, especially since Belial -which he had yet to even lay eyes upon- had still not reappeared.

At the sight of an information kiosk, Sandalphon picked up the pace. She absorbed everything it had to offer at a glance, then reported to the team. “The floorplan is arranged around the elevator in a ring of eight sectors. We are in Sector 1. Currently, the elevator is in emergency lockdown.” While the kiosk didn’t say why, it took just a glance at the lift itself to confirm that Naytiba biomass had partially overgrown one side of it, anchoring it in place. “To ascend, that biomass would need to be destroyed, and the lockdown manually lifted.”

“I can handle the technical stuff!” Lily volunteered cheerfully.

Sandalphon’s eyes followed the road-sized groove worn into the floor, bordered by burnt matchsticks, that made an abrupt right turn and circled counter-clockwise through the facility. “That said, our expedition’s goal is not to ascend via the space elevator. The Midnight Walk leads around to the right and out the Raphael Space Center’s rear exit, directly across from us.”

“Oh…” The reminder seemed to disappoint Eve, who put on a glum smile. “Well, I’ll be sorry to see you all go. We’ve known each other only a short time, and you’re definitely an odd bunch, but most companionable. Not to mention capable.”

Though his drone did not fully convey his emotions, Adam seemed less acceptant. “Are you sure? Not that I doubt Eve’s abilities, but we could use your help up there. The Highlands will be a lot safer once the Alpha Naytiba is gone.” By this point, the scavenger had also noticed that a number of the Seekers seemed eager to snatch up loot wherever it could be found, so he decided to make one last ditch attempt. “...Plus, anything we find up there other than the Alpha Core is yours for the taking. With its proximity to the Colony, there’s bound to be some good tech.”

While Sandalphon did not ignore that, her focus was more on the mission. “I believe that space would be too high of an altitude for our signalling purposes,” she began, “But I must admit that part of me is uncharacteristically curious to see it for myself. It will probably take some time to breach the Space Center’s sectors and get through to the other side.” Her pupils had become ellipsis, with one dot bouncing upward at a time from left to right. “Perhaps we could divide and conquer. If most of us remain down here to work our way through to the exit, I could accompany Eve up the Space Elevator since I could warp back.” She pursed her lips. “I wouldn’t want to ask that anyone accompany me without an easy method of return.”

Heismay scratched his chin, thinking. Under normal circumstances having the team’s leader go off alone would be an obvious recipe for disaster, but if she could return at any time it was harder to object. “I suppose I don’t see the harm.” He shrugged. “Though I struggle to imagine the allure of a place called ‘space’. There’s plenty of space down here, if you ask me.”

“Might as well get started then, Lily.” Adam’s drone gestured toward the elevator control room in Sector 8, one sector to the left, then floated over to hack open the door.

Sandalphon watched as Lily and Eve went after him, then turned toward Sectonia and Mokou. “I trust I can rely on your magical abilities to clear the Naytiba infestation?” She could only imagine that the two spellcasters could make short work of that grotesque overgrowth. “My scans indicate a few Naytibas in the area, but nothing you both can’t handle.” She doubted that the sentryborgs, mutalist ospreys, and mutalist moas would pose much of a challenge, but they might keep the fliers on their toes.

She then turned and began walking toward the right. “In the meantime, let us begin heading this way. I’ll accompany you until the elevator is operational.”

To reach Sector 5, the Seekers would need to get through Sectors 2, 3, and 4, starting with Sector 2. Compared to the left-hand path, this right-hand path featured a lot more corruption, especially around the bulkhead. With the mechanical controls jammed, the team had no choice but to force a way through. “I’ll freeze as much as possible,” Sandalphon declared. “Once it’s frozen, concentrate your assault on the frozen area.” Heismay nodded, becoming his Assassin archetype. Once everyone was ready, the archangel hurled a Frost Lock at the corrupt flesh, and her teammates piled on the damage. After slashing the site with Lurking Nightblade, Heismay returned to normal to avoid spending too much MP, then attacked with a flurry of flashes. Of course, his efforts paled in comparison to the crew’s heavier hitters, and when the ice finally shattered, the Dissociation was so strong that the biomass barrier practically evaporated.

That seemed to trigger an immune response from the Naytiba organism, so once the Seekers entered Sector 2, where another flesh wall awaited them, Naytibas crawled out of the woodwork to attack. This time it wasn’t droids, but cephalopod Skullings that had reached their full potential by infesting human corpses. These took the forms of Skull Troopers with heavy hammers, Skull Fighters with scrap metal poleaxes, and Skull Gunners with arms mutated into biological weapons, capable of shooting out streams of highly toxic fluid. These Naytibas fought with vicious, self-destructive aggression, happily taking even fatal wounds if it meant doing some real damage, and it quickly became apparent why: whenever seemingly slain, the Skulling would ooze away from the fallen corpse to find a replacement body to serve as its new host, its killer distracted by its brethren. Unless a conscious effort was made to finish off each Skulling, the number of enemy Naytibas would not diminish any time soon.

@Lugubrious

Harry Dubois

𝒦𝒾𝓂 𝒦𝒾𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓇𝒶𝑔𝒾

Word Count: 898/515
Level: Lv: 6 EXP: (3/60)
Lv: 4 EXP: (5/40)
Location: Esaka’s Middle Tier - Esaka Pool.

Harry was inside the locker room getting prepared for the first round of the Street Fighter tournament. During his time in the cafe, he was speaking with the other seekers. All while downing many espressos. His anxiety was relieved when he saw the other seekers who had been staying at Banishing Flats. The only person who wasn’t accountable was Nadia. But that was not surprising, given that she would likely be as far away as possible from Esaka. He would do the same to protect his life. But that was something he wouldn’t admit to the other seekers.

He surmised that Nadia was perhaps long gone and unlikely to return. But really, he didn’t seem to care. He was more concerned about the tournament and his performance in the first round. Harry had changed into an appropriate outfit. Consisting of a pink karate outfit and a white belt, matching his sensei’s outfit somewhat. He had done some research on the participants of the Street Fighter tournament with Kim. His first opponent is a robot created by Violet Systems to be the perfect weapon. While he was worried he wouldn’t do much fighting a robot, he was sure he could overcome this obstacle. His train of thought was broken by a tournament official telling him to start heading to the area.

As Harry was waiting for his match, he started jumping, trying to pump himself up for his match. As he walked towards the main stage, he noticed a robot approaching the stage as well. Harry surmised that this was his opponent. Harry carefully stepped onto the platform above a large pool. Both of them were now standing in the area, with Harry slowly getting into a fighting stance. The robot, introduced as Combat, adopted a somewhat similar style. Harry guessed Combot was going to use Jeet Kun Do this round. And the next round would be much different.

Adrenaline was filling his body as the round started. Immediately, Combot moved close to Harry, trying to kick Harry’s torso. The kick connected to Harry’s stomach, making him writhing in pain. Combot followed up this kick with a punch to his jaw. The series of attacks caused Harry to fly backwards, landing on his side. But surprisingly, Harry slowly got back up and started rushing at Combot. He jumped as high as he could, performing a series of Dankukyaku on Combot’s torso. The attack connected, making the robot drop onto the ground. Harry wanted to continue his attack on Combot, wanting to make sure he didn’t get back up again. The out-of-shape detective started stomping on the robot’s head, trying to keep it down. But each time his foot made contact with that large metallica head, he could feel a sharp stinging pain run up his leg. This attack made him hold onto his feet while wailing in pain.

But Harry’s attack didn’t seem to do much damage. The robot slowly got back up, countering by kicking Harry in the leg. It seemed to know that Harry’s leg was hurt, and was going to make sure Harry could use them to attack. The kick made Harry scream in pain, holding onto his leg. Combot followed up the attack with a hard punch to Harry’s chest. Harry could feel the wind leaving his lungs. A thought came to him that he was not going to get far in the tournament. It took Harry a few minutes to try to recover.

Harry resumed his fighting stance as he started to get serious about fighting this thing. It didn’t take him long to realize a plan of action. He quickly closed the gap between himself and Combot. Slamming his fist into the robot’s chin, performing a Koryuken, albeit a very poor imitation of it. Harry was still getting used to performing these moves. This move was enough for Harry to win the first round. After the round, both of them went back to their starting position.

As the second round started, Combot became quite aggressive. Powdering Harry with punches and kicks, making Harry’s struggle to block his attacks. Most of Combot’s attacks landed, hitting him in the face, neck, chest, and stomach. It looked like Combot was going to win the second round. Harry was kneeling on the ground, trying to catch his breath, looking completely gassed. For a moment, he had his eyes closed as his physical and motoric thoughts were chattering. Harry suddenly opened his eyes and stood up while starting to pump himself up.

Starting to turn the tables on the robot. He pointed to Combot before giving him a big boot to the stomach. Following up the boot with a multitude of strikes. Finishing the strike with a thumbs up and an arrogant-looking grin. Combot flew into the pool of water below and was unlikely to get back up again. Harry noticed his hands were bloodied from slamming his fist into the metallic body of his opponent. Something he wanted right now was a strong drink.

=====================================

Kim’s match was beginning with the detective waiting on the platform above a pool. Something that seemed quite inconvenienced for him. He got into a fighting stance, not, of course, before bowing to Leo, who returned the gesture with a similar motion. And as the announcer started the round, Kim slowly moved towards Leo. Wanting to test them and their resolve. As Kim’s foot stepped closer towards Leo, they responded by trying to punch Kim in the chest. Kim tried blocking the attack, but his efforts were rebuffed by Leo kicking him in the side. Kim staggered to the side, trying to keep his balance. Responding to the offence by letting out two or three punches towards their body. Some of his blows seemed to land, making Leo stagger. But some of his punches were blocked or countered by his opponent. The two of them were trading blows, with Leo having more leeway than Kim. They were more skilled in hand-to-hand combat than he was. Part of him begrudged the fact that he didn’t get any more training in any kind of martial arts.

Kim could feel the pain of their punches and kicks running all over his body. Fortunately, his glasses were not affected by their attack. As Leo was coming in for a grapple behind him, he quickly countered with one of his own. Grabbing Leo by the arm before throwing them over his hip onto the ground. While briefly celebrating this move in his mind, he was caught off guard by her next attack.

Leo quickly recovered by kicking Kim in the stomach while getting back onto their feet. The kick sends Kim onto his back with a hard thud. With this kick, Leo was able to win the first round. Kim was helped back onto his feet. And as the second round started, Kim thought of taking the fight more seriously. And instead would be more offensive than defensive.

A few seconds into the second round, Kim started closing the distance between himself and Leo. Trying to bait them into attacking him so he could perform a devastating counterattack. Performing a strike to the side of their head. Leo took the bait, trying to block the attack, but he used this opportunity to fight back. He kneed Leo in the stomach, making them lurch forward. The detective seized this opportunity to deliver a devastating blow. Kim followed this up by trying to get them into a sleeper hold. Tightening his grip, trying to make sure she would be out for the count. But they were tougher than they looked.

They held onto the arm that was wrapped around Leo’s neck. Leo did not want to lose, so he delivered a hard kick to his opponent's head. Staggering Kim and breaking his glasses in the process. And before he could recover, he was kicked once again in the head by Leo. This kick knocked Kim out and he was unable to continue fighting. Leo won the first match. A moment that would be pretty embarrassing for the detective. And it was something that Harry would tease Kim about.

Yayama did a few stretches in the wake of the stream receding, preparing for her upcoming match. Likely pushover or no, it wouldn't do to neglect herself - particularly when she was coming into the tournament with no rest to speak of the previous night. She stepped up to her place in the arena with a final crack of her neck, staring Buzzsaw down with one eye. Despite her relaxed posture just a few moments prior, her one-eyed gaze betrayed nothing but focus as both fighters took up their stances.

(BGM: Force Your Way)

The two eyed one another, Kameos waiting in the wings, as the timer counted down to the start of the match. The starting bell sounded, and her opponent rushed at her with blades abuzz. Yayama attempted to put up an aetheric barrier - only to realize that the Principles were interfering with her magic. The moment of focus this cost nearly got her hit by a flying saw, flung forward to cover her foe's advance; if she'd been taller, Yayama might have been in trouble. Buzzsaw threw a string of blows at her, high and low, probing her guard to find holes. The machine's attacks were nothing compared to Sakura's, however, and she caught them with ease, parrying each effortlessly.

A quick jab forward with the pommel of her blade struck her opponent before he had a chance to retreat, stunning him just long enough to allow her to follow up with a bash of the shoulder. This carried into a leg sweep, sending him tumbling to the ground before a vicious uppercut with her blade caught Buzzsaw squarely. She was preparing to chase this with an aetherically-enhanced Edge of Darkness when his partner, the also-overly-aesthetically-appropriate Skullcrusher, dove in and caught her mid-swing. The robot grabbed her before slamming his head into Yayama's thrice, then tossed her backward.

The dazed lalafell recovered before she hit the ground, just in time to interpose Shadowbringer between herself and a sawblade flying up toward her from the ground. Buzzsaw leapt up after her, gambling on an aerial grab that would leave her at the mercy of the spinning machinery mounted all over his body. Yayama reacted in time, however, fending off the grapple and sending them both skidding backward slightly. A third charge forward was terminated early as Yayama thrust her blade forward to the very edge of her reach, skewering Buzzsaw's advance. "Now!"

With a shout, Charlotta entered the fray. The assist came in the form of a whirling slash, her fellow swordswoman moving like her foe's namesake to strike him repeatedly. This gave Yayama more than enough time to recover her grip and charge forward before Charlotta's retreat, leaving Buzzsaw at her mercy. She struck with another, shorter thrust, which she drew into a retreating slash that left her with the perfect spacing to deliver the blow that had been thus far delayed. The Edge of Darkness landed with the ringing of steel on steel, smashing Buzzsaw to the ground hard enough that the automaton bounced up and away before coming to rest.

The end of her blade planted itself in the arena as the Heavenly Principles declared her victory in the first round. She took a deep breath as she reset for the next fight. Don't get too cocky. Overconfidence is a swift and brutal killer. It was hard to tell, but it seemed like her opponent was doing quite the opposite of Yayama's approach. Buzzsaw's motions were agitated as he righted himself and prepared to come at her again. Once more, the Principles announced the start of the round, and set the exact moment where the fight began anew.

This time, her foe came at her even more aggressively. He threw a spinning bola at her before leaping into the air, hurling another blade at her at the apex of his jump. She blocked both projectiles and the downward kick he aimed at her calmly. Dodging forward evaded the sudden appearance of Skullcrusher, whose grab found no purchase this time. The skeletal-looking robot, rather than vanishing this time, turned toward Yayama and leapt high into the air, almost out of sight. Buzzsaw landed and charged again, this time coming in low with an uppercut aimed toward the dark knight. The combination attack was nearly impossible to block, and might have foiled a less seasoned fighter, but Yayama had the good sense to apply the oldest trick in the book when it came to defense: your opponent can't hit you if you aren't there to be hit.

A simple hop backward put the landing point of the devastating high-low, one-two strike a fulm or so ahead of her. Buzzsaw was painfully exposed. She charged a Jolt while he regained his balance, launching the first shot just as his guard started to come up. The, well, jolt from the hit opened him up to a horizontal swipe of her blade. A quick lunge forward let her plant another body check at knee level, which she once more followed with a leg sweep. Yayama caught him with a grab as he began to fall, then slammed him down into the ground with strength that might've surprised less-attentive onlookers. She then threw him forwards into a leaping slash from Charlotta, which bounced Buzzsaw into yet another Edge of Darkness.

Yayama jumped after him, aiming to end the fight decisively. Skullcrusher couldn't save him this time. Taking a bit of a hint from her partner, she half-spun in midair, crashing the edge of her blade into the robot's path as he fell. A thrust arrested his momentum enough for a series of three quick slashes to find their marks, before a downward smash sent him down. Just before he hit the ground, Yayama released the magical energy she'd built up with her earlier spell. An Impact bloomed in Buzzsaw's path, sending the already-struggling android back into the waiting jaws of the Warrior of Darkness's assault. She met him with a swift punch before landing, then put all her might into a swinging blow reminiscent of a batter swinging for the stands. The attack sent him flying toward the edge of the arena, where he skidded, then rolled to a rest against the balustrade. Buzzsaw tried to rise, but it was too late; the Principles gave the round to Yayama and Charlotta just as his arms failed to lift him off the ground.

Yayama gave her sword a couple of triumphant spins with one hand before resting it across her shoulder once again and taking her leave of the stage. Her other hand high-fived Charlotta once they were back amongst the crowd.

Thereon’s warning about not turning the city into a powder keg by recklessly going after G-Corp didn’t quite fall on deaf ears, but the kids weren’t exactly discouraged from that plan of action either. Apparently the four kings didn’t have an issue with turning their city into a keg with its fuse lit either, given that they put out an ultimatum and a reward for taking down the company, namely a meeting with them. Then again, given the lady standing with them, maybe they were all aware that blowing up the city would just give her, and them, more power to work with when the seekers came knocking.

”Is that bait? It's gotta be bait right? I mean. All of them? In one room. We don’t need to win all the tournaments in that case, just hunt down one guy! It's way too easy!” Jr said, stalking to and fro on the concrete embankment of a back ally canal that lay snug against the wall to the mid-teir. They’d head up to the pools at the same time as the others in order to watch a match rather than throwing themselves into either of their proposed options right away, which had turned out to be a smart move given the relevant announcement.

”You know, except for fighting and anyone who wants to take the head for themselves first. Plus how do you even get the head if he turns to ash anyway? And then after we’ve gotta take them all at once, and that consul lady, at the same time” Rika pointed out. She wasn’t sure it wasn’t a trap too, but it was definitely a hard one to spring looking at it from where they were standing ”So, like, maybe we just leave it to all the other people to deal with the problem for us? Maybe loot some stuff here n there and then head back to crack open a hollow?”

”Eh. Bet they’d all mess up anyway. These guys’ll all just go run at the problem one at a time and get their butts kicked for sure” Jr replied with a dismissive wave at the rest of the crowd here to watch the same match as them. Most of them simply lived or worked nearby and had decided to pause their days for five minuets for some light entertainment but it was the outsider, a muscular bearded fellow, who harumphed at this statement.

Jr plowed on regardless, saying ”Besides, if it's all of us vs four of them that’s way better than four… uh…. Six of us vs four of them. Or six of them? Are that guy’s cats his triples partners or something?”

”Guess we could just go before the tournament’s over. Maybe. You know, if they’d let people who didn’t help come along. Especially once they see our not Galeeming eyes” Rika pointed out, before thinking and suggesting ”So maybe, I dunno, we get a team? Like. People want to take these guys down anyway, maybe some of them don’t care about doing it legit. Like, we get a bunch of bad guys together, and then at the end we stab em all in the back like papa says and take the win for ourselves”

”Yeah! Wait. Why are we stabbing them at the end its not like they know how the guardian spirits work and, well,what else do we want from em?”

Rika scratched the back of her neck with an oversized thumb and then shrugged, saying ”I dunno, but, like, papa says they’ll try and do it to us, so we just have to do it first is all”

”Hmmm. I guess so… yeah! We could do that”

They were interrupted when the bearded, muscular, gauntlet wearing man who’d harumphed earlier (and who had grown increasingly confused when he started listening in on their conversation) and who now said“Alright that’s enough make believe out of you two scamps! Pipe down, the fight’s about to start!”

Zeus, god of thunder stared down the pair authoritatively, but it turned out to be hardly necessarily as the pair dropped the conversation at once to turn their focus to the plank arena before them at the meer mention the fight was about to start. Satisfied, the god turned his own focus back to the arena on which the fighter he, and some of the other Fight of Gods dojo members, were here to see compete in his first match.

A moment later Zeus’s head snapped back at the pair of kids in surprise when, after a whisper of ”Like I said, on three. One, two, three” from the tiny turtle, the pair erupted into a twinned shout of ”GO PIT!!!!” ”Go Pit!” directed towards the angel who’s match was just about to begin.

It turned out they were all here to see the same angel boy.

Zeus barked out with a laugh, before commenting “What funny friends little Pit has” before folding his arms and saying “Now then. Lets see how he does” while settling in to watch Pit’s opening performance.

Geralt awaited the other Seekers as they made their way through the burned-out road, providing literal fire support with Ardor Blossom’s flames to split the Naytibas’ attention, sure to never anger more than one or two at a time. Monsoon and the Judicator provided further support, each utilizing their own ranged attacks to destroy any that approached. Once the way was clear, he took a moment to access the Armory via Edward’s spell, sending the items he’d just received from the Spirits to the Avenger.

When the rest entered the Space Elevator’s housing complex, Sandalphon went to work confirming their next step: crossing through the building and destroying the Naytiba mass to allow Adam and Eve to continue their own journey to ascend the elevator, where Sandalphon would temporarily assist them. He couldn’t deny that seeing the heavens had its appeal, but they had a job to do, and killing the immortal Baldur would only get harder the darker and colder it got. They couldn’t afford too many delays, which made Sandalphon the only one who could reasonably join their temporary allies with her ability to instantly teleport to the rest of the team.

As the door to Area 2 opened once the Seekers put the hurt on the piece of biomass blocking their access, Geralt transformed to the Molar Boatworks Fixer Identity. The Naytiba thus far hadn’t proven terribly dangerous, and with Quen to protect him, he could easily deal with the more melee-focused Troopers and Fighters. The Gunners would prove a greater challenge, though as he charged in to attack, he noticed that they were much slower to fire than the sentrybots had been outside.

Taking advantage of that fact, he focused on the polearm-wielding Fighters. While his lack of reach in this Identity was certainly a disadvantage against a more or less equally-skilled opponent, it was child’s play to bait an overcommitted attack from one of the Naytiba. As soon as it left an opening, Geralt took advantage of it, jabbing his harpoon-blade into its torso, using his free arm to bind and disable the arm that held its weapon. With its own free hand, the Naytiba punched him in the head, but Geralt took the blow with only a grunt, Quen’s shield shimmering around him. The others were established in the melee by now, and Geralt kept his attention on his first quarry.

Throwing its free arm off him, Geralt used his harpoon to stab and tear at the arm holding its weapon, forcing the Fighter to drop its polearm. From there, he ducked another punch, skirting around and jabbing with the pile bunker into roughly where its kidney would be on a human, following up with a hook to its chest with his empty hand as it turned towards him. The Naytiba launched itself at him, but Geralt pivoted and caught its flying body, pinning it to the ground and stabbing through its torso. As the main body dissolved, the Skulling quickly scuttling away to find a new host. “Dammit! The heads, the things on their heads! Take them out or these things will just keep coming.” He called to the others as a Gunner opened fire on him.

A Trooper approached as he dodged the projectile, wildly swinging its hammer and forcing Geralt to make a series of rapid parries to avoid its blows. As it finished its wild combo, pulling its hammer up from the ground, Geralt was forced to dodge another Gunner projectile. He sighed, casting Igni on the Trooper and scorching it before breaking and running for the Gunner. In a strange display of either stupidity or an abundance of unearned confidence, it stood its ground and lethargically swung its projectile-firing arm, the Witcher easily avoiding the blow by taking a quick step backwards, as he primed the pneumatic system on his pile bunker.

Once it was charged as the Gunner began recovering, Geralt stepped forward, punching the weapon forward and unleashing its stored energy, the harpoon tip spearing out and instantly destroying the Naytiba’s body and the Skulling on its head, the parasitic Naytiba dissolving into ash.

He had no time to think of where next, though, as the Trooper bore down on him, swinging its club as he turned and catching him on the shoulder. Quen shattered with an explosion of electricity, zapping every enemy in a twelve-meter radius with a burst of lightning. The Naytiba did not relent, swinging violently in its follow-up already, but Geralt caught the attacking monster’s arm, halting the incoming blow entirely. It struggled to break his grip, but Geralt snarled, punching his harpoon-clad fist into and through its chest, killing the host and sending the Skulling fleeig.

He gave chase, the Naytiba surprisingly fast when motivated, but Geralt was faster. Even as it found and attempted to take over a new host, his boot came down on one of its tentacles, pinning it in place. It turned entirely, flinging its body onto his leg and trying to dig into his flesh through the material, but found no purchase. Instead, Geralt speared its body through with his pile bunker, killing the Skulling.

Grima’s walk eventually brings her to her chosen fight location, a simply raised stone platform surrounded by water. It was a simple place, befitting the start of the tournament… And very little actual spectators. That did not surprise her either, the status of the tournament meant that there were a dozen battles going on at once, and attention was divided. It did mean that Grima would not be able to make her statement of strength to the populace and organizers… At least, not yet.

But, the future could wait. Right now, Grima had to focus on the opponent that she was chosen to fight, who had already been waiting for her at this paltry arena.

The man before her was… Admittedly unremarkable, bearing brown hair and a simplistic but maneuverable outfit of a jacket, tight shirt, and jeans. He stood in the starting position, hands on his hips and a smirk on his face as he regarded Grima’s approach, “So, you’re my first opponent huh? Fancy name, and fancy outfit. Looks like you’re taking this tournament seriously. Not that it matters though” he begins, flicking a finger across his nose before shaking his hands, pumping himself up for the battle ahead, “Name’s Danny, and I’ll be the one sending you to the Loser’s Bracket in no time.”

For a few moments, silence permeates the pools. Then, Grima begins to laugh. A small, condescending sound that held no true mirth, “Oh, really now? Mortal arrogance is truly a wonder to behold, no matter the time” she states with a smile before it quickly fades, the only emotion shown being a flicker of malice in her red eyes, “You evidently need to learn your place worm. For you face something beyond your feeble comprehension” with those final words Grima draws her sword, twirling it in her hand before entering her combat stance, “Let us begin the lesson”

Danny simply blinks in response, the cold malice behind Grima’s words disrupting his cocky exterior for a moment before he shakes it off, entering a combat stance of his own, “Whatever you say lady. You’ll be taking a nice swim long before you start monologuing again”

ROUND 1, FIGHT

Danny takes the initiative, dashing forward and throwing a lunching punch at Grima’s head. Yet just before his fist flew out, Grima stepped forward, flipping her sword in her grip and jabbing the pommel into Danny’s stomach. The impact disrupts his attack, causing him to stagger before Grima flips her sword around again, slashing Danny’s chest with a quick swipe before blasting him away with a point blank magical burst from her free hand. While the strikes did not cause visible wounds on Danny thanks to the Heavenly Principles, the pain was still clear and fresh as the fighter tumbled over themselves, barely managing to land on his feet.

For a moment, Danny simply stares in surprise at Grima, who began to walk confidently towards him, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, knowing she had just proven her superiority. The sight was clear as day for Danny… And a spark of rage coursed through his body. For a brief instant, a red glow surrounded his upper body, a sight that caused Grima’s eyebrow to momentarily rise in interest… Right before Danny burst forward once more, spinning their body to launch a devastating kick at Grima. The action caused Grima’s eyes to widen for a fraction of a second before she raised her arm, a small barrier forming just above it before Danny’s foot crashed into her guard, causing Grima to skid back a few inches.

With the offensive now on his side, Danny plants his feet upon the ground, launching a flurry of quick blows at Grima to keep her on the defensive. The vessel’s eyes narrow in annoyance at the jabs, her barrier holding without flaw before she found an opening, swinging her sword to catch Danny’s neck. Unfortunately for Grima, this was what Danny had expected, and the fighter quickly ducked underneath her attack, a grin returning to his face before he rose up, striking Grima’s chin with an uppercut that sent her flying in the air for a few seconds before roughly crashing onto the ground. The red aura flares to life around him again, before he launches a ball of red energy at Grima’s recovering form.

At least, that was the intent.

As the ball neared Grima, the air itself seemed to darken as Grima held a clenched fist to her chest. On the back of her hand, a purple mark flared underneath her glove, and for an instant, three pairs of red eyes seemed to manifest around Grima... Right before she thrusted her hand forward, a beam of dark magic firing out, completely decimating the ball of energy as it flew before slamming into Danny himself as he recovered from launching his own attack. With the opening exploited, Danny was forced to take the full brunt of the attack, sending him tumbling across the floor once more, unable to properly catch himself and instead skidding face first across the arena before finally coming to a stop.

GRIMA WINS

The announcement rings out as Danny slowly pushes himself off the ground, panting for a few moments before glaring up at Grima, who simply runs a hand through her hair, “A surprising display, but that was your one lucky blow, worm” the woman says as she walks back to her starting position, her red eyes now narrowed in focus. Danny himself finally gets to his feet, running his hand across his mouth,

“We’ll see. I’m not out of the fight yet” Danny approaches his original position as well, entering his battle stance once more.

ROUND 2, FIGHT

This time, Danny did not immediately engage… A facet that Grima immediately took advantage of, taking a step back herself and launching an orb of darkness that forced Danny on the defensive. It quickly became clear that Grima was playing a different game this time, and unlike before where Danny had found openings to attack, Grima simply refused to allow any clear openings for him to exploit. Every punch was interrupted, every reversal dodged and countered appropriately. It was almost as if Grima had Danny’s routine down to a flowchart, practically three steps ahead as she anticipated every move and drove him back further and further to the edge of the arena. The realization of which drove Danny to become slightly panicked, trying to desperately break Grima’s assault before he simply resorted to blocking everything…

A result that simply sealed his fate.

In the midst of her offensive, Grima’s hand shot out, grabbing Danny’s raised arm before she ruthlessly pulled him towards her, driving a knee into his exposed stomach at the same time. The force caused the air to be forced out of his lungs… Before Grima’s same hand released his arm and planted itself directly onto his face, another orb of dark magic forming directly in the palm of her hand. A malicious grin forms across Grima’s face, her eyes glinting with predatory satisfaction before the orb simply detonates point blank, sending Danny flying straight off the edge of the arena.

Naturally, Danny screamed as he fell into the water, a massive splash following his collision before he managed to recover and swim to the surface of the water, sputtering and catching his breath as the Heavenly Principles announced the victor.

RING OUT. GRIMA WINS

With victory hers, Grima sheathed her sword, her expression now calm and satisfied as she looked down at Danny with a small, smug smile, “And there is your place, worm. Enjoy crawling in the dirt with the others in the Loser’s Bracket” she states before turning on her heel, walking out of the arena with her first victory under her belt and leaving Danny to stew in his first loss.

When the group got to their next location and were looking at how they'd progress, Sandalphon had some plan of going through things. Being one of the few people with access to fire, She recommended Sectonia help burn them a path with Mokou. and while Sectonia would be totally fine removing this blight from their path, when there was a mention of wanting to look at what was up the elevator and what loot their could potentially be. Speaking of, she had crushed and stored the item of the guardian her, Blazermate and Mokou killed.



When Sandalphon recommended that she could teleport back to the group, Sectonia offered her own services to dealing with what was up at the top. "Once you are back with the group, you can also summon me by calling me forth. So I can escort you up there as well." Sectonia offered. But before that she had to help clear all that infection, and while her fire power weren't nearly as strong as Mokous, she could summon her red antlers to help clear the path with their flamethrowers while Sectonia herself threw her rings of light to try to clear sections and cause a bit of chaos with the stuff holding out in the area.

Blazermate meanwhile was on healing duty like always, deploying her projectile shield to help them push and using divine stars to heal the group as a whole from time to time.

=============================



Roland made his way to the pool matches. He figured it would be some arena, but once he got to the location of the fight, he found it was some... nondescript platform hovering above an empty landscape? Well, it wasn't a major tournament match, so that made sense. But this was really low tech even for a tournament. With his opponent already there, Roland was ready for his fight. He was used to fighting martial artists, so this shouldn't be too bad once he got the flow of things.

As the fight started, Roland's floor was chosen. This time it was the floor of Natural Sciences and this would be quite the interesting floor to roll for such a fight. As the fight started and both fighters got into range, Roland started with a quick bash from his mace, which was overpowered by Jeffry's grab game, Jeffery deflecting the mace hit and throwing Roland away. So Jeffery was a grappler, Roland knew how to fight these as many in the Middle were also grapplers, and with that clash loss, Roland reached emotion level 1 and gained Hate, a girls voice saying "I hate a peaceful world… It’s like… It’s like I’m not needed anymore…".

Keeping his pressure, Jeffery, moved in to follow up on Roland recovering, Roland using his daggers and gauntlets to out agile his opponent. This failed due to one of his spirits slowing him down at the start of fights, causing him to get grabbed and slammed once again. From the ground, Roland swiped at Jeffery with his hammer, causing him to fall down and letting Roland get back up. With this Roland hit emotion level 2, gaining Despair, a deeper woman's voice saying "I swore to protect, yet I lost them again…".

This continued for a bit more, Roland gaining and losing clashes and Jeffery slamming him down or getting hit himself, but eventually as Roland hit emotion level 3 gaining Greed, a sultry woman's voice saying "Nothing was left in my wake. Only visceral greed remained." and partway into 4, Jeffery had managed to do enough damage to win Round 1. Roland then learned that his emotion levels didn't reset within the tournament as Round 2 started and Jeffery had gained some leeway into the match, using Roland's own Hate and Greed to heal or punish Roland a bit more than he normally could. But once Roland had clashed with his greatsword, winning the clash and gaining emotion level 4, the match started to turn around. Roland gained Wrath, an angry woman, almost monsterous voice saying "SINNERS OF THE OTHERWORLDS!!! EMBODIMENTS OF EVIL!!!", and he gained a massive boost in power. Normally the downside of Wrath would be blinding Roland to friends and foes alike, but with there being only a single target for his wrath, there was no downside. He had also managed to gain the EGO Gold Rush and Blind Rage during this time.

Round 2 Jeffery had managed to barely eek out a win by having a smidge more health than Roland as the timer ticked down by managing to get Roland to stagger off one of his throws ad follow up on it. However once Roland hit emotion level 4 and his slow start debuff had expired, he found that his grabs weren't doing much of anything anymore. Roland had refrained from using his ranged options for the time, which would've made the fight much easier, in order to gain emotion levels against Jeffery faster. And once round 3 happened and Roland unleashed a wave of acid from Blind Rage, He was on the backfoot. While he tried to continue his grapples on Roland, Roland had gotten faster and could poke in and out, dodging his grabs with relative ease with his longer ranged melee attacks like his lance and swords. And once Roland hit Emotion level 5, it was over for Jeffery. Once Roland hit emotion level 5, he grabbed Nix, and as the echoy voice of the Jester of Nihil came from him saying "Leading the way through foolishness, there’s not a thing to guide me." and him gaining the Ego In the name of Love and Hate, Roland radiated an aura of pure corroding darkness. This aura greatly weakened Jeffery, slowed him down, and more or less made him too slow to ever touch and too weak to counter any of Roland's moves again.

After Roland had gained Nix, things weren't all that eventful. Jeffery having slow movement to start with was just too slow to catch the now amped up Roland who was doing even more damage with all the downsides of his previous emotion powers removed and the power of Nix weakening Jeffery in strength, defense, and speed making rounds 3, 4, and 5 far easier. With rounds 4 and 5 being flawless victories for Roland as Nix was active at the start of said rounds.

Edward supposed it was hard to beat the bodyplan of the Reindrix when it came to effective wagon pullers, the man putting his more outlandish schemes of Swinubs with longer legs to bed upon seeing the ShielDrix.

”They’re even easier to see past with those armored heads of theirs” He commented as he stepped up to the seat of the stage coach, ready to set off.

Also ready to set off where a squad of four Snoruyo as the Dreadnought, satisfied enough with his examination of the prototype, had committed to a field test of more of the units. He’d also, before tearing down the equipment to recycle any resource from it, made one more unit which was a fusion of a Somnacanth and a Chillet,



This new beast’s first task was to hunt down and knock out one of the crab creatures that had scuttled off. As ordered, the beast stalked through the cars, fore libs dragging it forwards while rear pattered away in sync with its slithering tail. Accompanying it was a scout drone which marked any traffic cones it found, prompting the Chillanth to bat them over.

Soon enough an approached cone got up and started to run instead of being slapped by the beast, only for said beast to coil up its tail, and for a purple blast to pulse at its feet as it launched itself after the crab in a mighty leap.

It landed directly on the cone shell, whose tapered shape slipped to one side and, improbably, let the crab slide to the side of the rocket slam rather than being crushed beneath it. Not that that was Edward’s desire. He wanted a sample, not ash and a spirit.

The Chillanth seemed to be extra aggressive in its execution of his instruction unfortunately, forcing him to restate his desire for it to ”Just knock it out please” from his seat on the stagecoach.

Fortunately for the crab, this got through before the Chillanth finished charging a blast of dragon energy, and prompted it to swing its head around and blow a cone of sleeping powder over the crab, causing its attempt to stand up after the near miss of a slam be cut short and end with it slumped on the floor.

”Excelent, now just retrieve a sample of it and-” Edward called over, only for the Chillanth to grip the crab with a claw, bite into a rear leg, and then proceed to rip said limb clean off.

He was going to need to send someone or something more delicate to do the extraction in future apparently.

Naturally, this woke the crab up, and did not please it one bit, so while screeching in pain launched fire at the chillanth, which it in turn did not like. Thus it was now the Chillanth’s turn to screech in pain as its fur was scorched, causing it to drop the crab (and crab leg) in the process. Said crab began to try and crawl around and get off another shot at the weak to fire beast even as it rapidly bled out.

”Rediculous” Edward bemoaned the situation, having stopped their ride and marched over, commanding his creation to ”Leave it!” as he plucked a friend-heart from his chest. This he then hurled it at the trafficrab to revitalize it and also let it just leave rather than keep fighting like any other form of healing would.

As the trafficrab’s eye light blinked (literally) in confusion Edward ordered the Chillanth to ”Fetch!” the severed leg that had just been replaced and then turned to return to his driving duty.

While slowly rolling the stagecoach forwards while the other sniffed out and handled lurking droids, Edward (through golem eyes) found that he was being not so inconspicuously followed, prompting him to lean out around the stagecoach, stare down a traffic cone, and with a touch of exasperation said ”Well, come on then!” while waving it closer.

A few seconds passed, and then the trafficrab popped up out of its ‘shell’ took a few tentative steps forwards, and then scampered up to join him by the driver’s seat

”Is this a ‘friend heart’ thing? Or were you secretly sentient and now want to know what in the world just happened?" he asked the monster, but if it was the latter, it didn't give much indication, just blinking its eye light (again, literally) at him a few times before it turned its eyes to the road.

”A question for later, then” he said to himself, and possibly it, before ordering the ShielDrix ”Forwards” and keeping them moving.

While they did, he sent the Snoruyo forwards for their own test run, getting them to engage a stray droid together. The results were a little less impressive than he’d hoped, as while the ice shards they tossed came out fast, reducing the eye count to one had some… detrimental impact to their aim.

Suffice to say, the drone managed to close the distance, which was when all the defensive skills came into play.

The targeted Snoruye raised a protective barrier, blocking a blade strike, while two more used double-team to crowd the drone with threats, and the final released a burst of static mist, smothering the area in a sight blocking electrical hazard.

Vision glitching under the static, blurred by the mist, and filled with targets, the drone was swiftly overwhelmed by close ranged shard strikes, the Snoruye seeming to communicate through the static mist and in so doing neutralizing the issue of their lack of depth perception.

”Successfully done, but that was only one threat” Edward noted to himself, and, he supposed to his new traffic cone wearing companion, once the impossible creatures were done.

He considered testing out the Thoroughbred Reindrix as well, but by then they were out of lone targets, and into the center proper, where it turned out they’d be splitting up.

”I shall endeavor to keep us on task down here in that case” Edward informed Sandalphon, implicitly taking on her (light) leadership duties while she was away.

The first of those tasks: dealing with a mass of corpses reanimated by squid like parasites.

Edward, naturally, had the coach hang back, reins in hand, ready to move their transport out of harm's way if anything broke through their lines. Still, he also remained in shouting distance because unlike the golems, the impossible creatures were not directly linked to him via magic (other than his boons), and so needed direct instructions.

The Dreadnought sent the more expendable golems in first, naturally, specifically using a pair of iron golem squads to put a wall between the horde and the stagecoach. Those were the only constructs being used however, leaving him with a spare 5 cells after the buffs were taken into account, and so the actual firepower, and killing, was going to be done by the impossible creatures.

This, then, was the true test.

The Chillanth started well, coiling up on its tail behind the golems, placing a clawed hand on a pair of shoulders for support, and looming over them. From this perch it launched large darts that stuck into the front ranks which stymied their charge, before blowing sleep gas down onto them causing several of the cephalopods to slump off of the bodies they were puppeting, corpse and creature both hitting the floor.

The golems initially held the rest back neatly, hammers crashing futilely against shields while the Chillanth evaded poleax thrusts, until the ranged gunners got involved, blasting the creature with toxic blight, sending it reeling back, squealing and wrenching.

These toxins did nothing to the iron golems, naturally, but with the Chillanth commanded to fall back for healing, it was up to the Snoruyo to take its place in the damage departments, the retaliatory clubstikes of the golems only doing to do so much harm.

Fortunately, they’d been pre-buffing.

Rather than four cyclopses, a dozen emerged from the side of the golems to stymie the efforts of the skulltroops to circle around and flank the stalwart shields. The fearlessness of the skulltroops sadly undermined the impact of such numbers, but it still meant that when they charged, several picked illusory targets rather than true foes. Those that picked true found their targets forming shards of ice in rounded hands which were swiftly tossed their way, the sharpened chunks embedding into the corpses of the skull troops.

Unfortunately, this didn’t really do much, as the Snoruyo’s poor aim met the, well, dead nature of their targets, and so most hits simply ignored the damage and kept on coming. Edward’s enchantment improved the physical attacks a little, one of the corpses igniting, another being armor sundered, but that would only help in the long run.

As such, only one that happened to hit and cripple a leg really achieved much in the moment, resulting in two of the Snoruyo having to raise barriers to protect themselves from sledgehammer smashes. The other two released a static mist, further increasing their own evasiveness, but frazzling the golems next to them in the process.

Suffice to say, the area was now a mess of dopplegangers and static mist with the various fighters all jumbled together in it, and into which toxic fluids where benign sprayed by the skull gunners. There was no restoring order in that, and so Edward was left to simply throw everything he had into the fray.

The healed Chillanth, friendly Trafficrab and even the Thoroughbred Reindrix were all sent charging forwards with the simple command of ”Destroy the enemy!” which had to be quickly amended to ”without friendly fire!” when the Reindrix began to summon a giant chunk of ice above its horns in response to this.

The Pal snorted, lowered its horns, and then thrust them up which caused a skulltrooper, Skullings and all, to be impaled on a Blizzard Spike lancing up from the ground beneath it. It then charged in with its freezing antlers, bringing its freezing aura to the mess (but at least the ice types Snoruyo more resistant to this than the skulltroopers).

The Trafficrab meanwhile, staying clear of the aura, also entered the fray, and thus the electrical mist, which promptly clung to it. The plastic typed beast became statically charged as a result of this type advantage, and so when a Skulltrooper struck its traffic cone shell with a poleaxe the Naytiba recoiled as far more lightning than had been in the cloud arched through its weapon, frying its arm in the process. The crab then approached and gave it a smack, causing yet more lighting to arch out of this normally weak strike to devastating effect. Finally it deployed a wall of plastic bricks to clog up a hole in the iron golem’s formation left by a member of it falling to flanking hammerers.

The Chillanth finally leapt over the fray entirely, wanting nothing to do with the electrical cloud it was weak too, and went straight for the skull gunners. First it nailing them with darts during its leap, and then charging with an evasive serpentine motion till it could get close enough to spray them with sleep gas and knock them out of the fighting.

Edward helped the mess as much as he could by using his Designate Target spell to specifically mark the skullings for death, allowing the Snoruyo (accuracy already bolstered by the static cloud) to aim specifically for this softer, weaker, and far more vital part of the foe with their ice shards.

Suffice to say, however, that it was an absolute mess of a brawl both best avoided and also in dire need of a strong singular force to bring decisive victory to the moshpit of a battle.

When Zenkichi made it to the arena for his match, he had to suppress a chuckle. It was basically just a gigantic raft, wooden logs roped together and floating in a great square atop the titular Pools. He could see other arenas out in the Tier, and sure enough, all had plenty of room to knock an opponent out of the ring, even the ones that were more than a cheap raft that could have been made in an afternoon.

His opponent, whose name was certainly more literal than Zenkichi was hoping, arrived shortly after he did. “Hard as iron, smooth as silk. There is no match for my style.” Iron Monk boasted as he performed a series of acrobatic maneuvers, clearly meant to intimidate. Zenkichi, for his part, was a little nervous about the fact that the guy did match his name, nodded.

”I wish I could afford to take it easy on you…but I can’t.” It sounded arrogant, and to a degree it was, but…Zenkichi had a sword and guns. As long as this guy wasn’t shooting energy blasts and slinging spells like crazy, Zenkichi had a feeling he wasn’t going to lose here.

The livestream to the Four Kings gave Zenkichi his first good look at his target, Heihachi. Compared to the others, Heihachi made no attempt to look like a warlord or king, instead showing off his muscular body and dedication to the art of combat. That boded poorly, Zenkichi thought, but he’d have to make do with the situation as it was.

Heihachi calling out and offering a bounty on G-Corp was even less expected, but part of Zenkichi couldn’t trust that seeming luck. While the old saying often blinded people into believing that the enemy of their enemy would be a friend, it was just as common for such partnerships to end in betrayal. Of course, he had no proof and no prior experience with Heihachi Mishima to say for sure whether the man was as principled as he claimed.

M. Bison’s speech regarding the attempt on his life earned a blank stare from Zenkichi. Did Juri really try to kill one of the Four Kings and completely whiff it? That…was actually surprising, somewhat. He didn’t know Juri terribly well in the short time they’d been part of the Seekers, but she certainly wasn’t incompetent. That much he could be certain of. So, either Bison was hurt more than he claimed, possibly even killed, and returned by virtue of the Guardian Spirit…or he was a lot tougher than Juri remembered. Either option boded poorly for the Seekers.

The remote viewing ended, and Zenkichi found himself atop the floating platform with Iron Monk again, each fighter loosening themselves up for the coming battle. As soon as the start of Round 1 was announced, Iron Monk shot forward in a corkscrew, forcing Zenkichi to block with his arms crossed. He was pushed back a few inches, but even as the attack ended, Iron Monk refused to let up. With a flourish, the steel-skinned martial artist punched high, then followed up with a leaning double-fist punch out of a bad action movie. His moves weren’t terribly fast, so Zenkichi was able to dodge the latter despite being hit by the former. He instead wrapped his arms around iron Monk’s own as his body leaned forward, and as his foe tried to pull back to put his body over his center of gravity, Zenkichi dropped down to the floor, landing on his butt and dragging Iron Monk with him.

It was a completely improvised move, but Zenkichi spun around over Iron Monk and wrench his arm up towards his back like a schoolyard bully, prompting a hiss of pain and a pair of legs to clamp around Zenkichi’s torso. Caught off guard, Zenkichi was forced off, but he halted an attack from Iron Monk by summoning Ragnell and swinging it down before him, forcing the martial artist to back off. “What trickery is this?! You brought in no weapon, yet here you stand, holding a sword before you!” Iron Monk shouted, pointing a finger accusingly at Zenkichi.

”Your body is literally made out of metal, I don’t wanna hear it from you.” Zenkichi deadpanned, a little sore from their earlier clashes. He swung Ragnell, taking advantage of the element of surprise to catch the monk with an energy blast, before walking forward menacingly. ”And frankly, I’ve let you keep control of the momentum long enough. Come on, let’s get this over with.” At least thirty more seconds on the clock, probably closer to forty. More than enough time to make up for the damage he’d taken, especially with the couple of hits he’d given in return.

Iron Monk approached with a double flying air kick, which seemed to defy gravity to keep him airborne longer. Knowing that he couldn’t match the other in attack speed, Zenkichi took a reactive position, sweeping Ragnell up and launching another energy blast to force Iron Monk to abandon the attack. He did, dropping to the ground and ducking the high-flying energy blast before corkscrewing forward, this time slamming into the hefted flat of Ragnell’s blade, before receiving a blow to the chest from the holy sword’s hilt, which Zenkichi followed up with a grab.

Said grab was broken by a simultaneous jab, knocking Zenkichi back a step and throwing off his momentum. The detective shook off the blow, remembering Band’s words about the triangle: block beats attack, attack beats grab, grab beats block. Get your opponent’s guard up, then go for the grab.

Zenkichi dismissed Ragnell, prompting a surprised look from Iron Monk, before replacing it with the Greatsword, which earned an unimpressed look. “An unsophisticated weapon for an unsophisticated man.” The taunt was ignored, with Zenkichi hiding behind the massive weapon’s bulk. Iron Monk snorted before running forward to make for a grab, only catching the glint of steel at Zenkichi’s side at the last moment.

A burst of gunfire forced Iron Monk back, and the martial artist was practically snarling now. “You hide behind weapons and deceit. My methods are pure, swordsman. And that is why I shall prove-” Cut off by another burst of gunfire before Zenkichi holstered his revolver, Iron Monk leapt forward with a jump kick, finding himself shocked as Zenkichi perfectly predicted the attack and sidestepped the kick, slamming Iron Monk into the ground with an overhead slash.

”You’re too easy to rile up.” Zenkichi sighed as he kicked Iron Monk, sending the martial artist rolling and chasing after him as he rose. The monk caught a thrust to the gut, dropping to his knees before a second overhead slash finished the round.

Zenkichi stepped back, a remorseful look on his face. ”I did say I was sorry that I can’t go easy on you. This is what I meant.” He knew this kind of fighting was dirty, at least to somebody who was some kind of monk, so the least he could do was make this empty apology. He wouldn’t stop.

The trek to the new complex was largely uneventful. What few attacks the stagecoach suffered were easily dealt with by one Seeker or another. Roxas primarily used that time to give his Pokemon some chances to battle and not just stay cooped up in their Poke Balls. Indeed, the Keyblade Wielder even declined riding on the stagecoach in favor of simply riding on Turbo for the time being. And the Revavroom didn’t mind in the least, and quite enjoyed the chance to really zoom forward and get in the exercise. During the ride, Roxas periodically switched between his other Pokemon to let them battle against the occasional Naytiba or borg variants.

For Ganondorf, the trek may as well have been a bore. Between all the Seekers and even his own Moblins, the Warlord hardly even needed to lift a finger to help defend the stagecoach. Perhaps an occasional Naytiba got too close to him only to be instantly snuffed out, but otherwise Ganondorf’s Moblin did the lion’s share of his part of the defense contributions. Frankly he needed a bit of a breather anyway after helping clear the path earlier so maybe this was a blessing in disguise.

Within the complex itself, it became apparent that the Seekers were about to part ways with Adam and Eve. And though Sandalphon was willing to accompany them up the space elevator to assist in dealing with their Alpha Naytiba problem, Ganondorf was much less charitable. Like the archangel, he was also more concerned with the mission more than anything else. Furthermore he had no easy way to return, though even if he did he probably still wouldn’t have been very eager to let himself be distracted. Speaking of distractions, he’d been very tempted to try infecting some of the corpses outside to make minions out of them, but restrained himself for the sake of expediency. He still very much wanted to try out his new powers, but right now there were more important tasks that needed doing.

Unlike the Gerudo, Roxas was much more sympathetic to Adam and Eve’s plight. He actually did want to help them, but realized he had no feasible way to quickly return from space and that meant he wasn’t a good fit for joining them on the elevator. Either way, the focus right now was to reach Sector 5.

To that end, Ganondorf was probably the heaviest hitter they had for breaking through the frozen areas that Sandalphon created for them. Between the Triforce of Power and the raw strength of his Warlock Punch, the Gerudo could probably break through even the unfrozen areas if he wanted to badly enough. But for the sake of expediency, he followed Sandalphon’s tactical advice and concentrated on the frozen areas. He could also fend off Skullings easily enough with sweeping fire breaths and brandishing his Acidic Crystal Spear. But it wasn’t lost on the warlord that his efforts were better served concentrating on breaking through to the next sectors. And so he did that while letting his Moblins focus on the aid to fend off Skulings for however much longer the Squad lasted. Once it was gone Ganondorf would briefly divert his attention into summoning Phantom Ganon to continue where the Moblins left off before resuming his attacks on the frozen spots.

Roxas, much like Heismay, was unable to contribute as much damage to the breaking effort as someone like Ganondorf or Geralt could. But he was rather suited to helping keep Skullings off the Seekers’ backs. As such, he chose to concentrate on running support. He cast tailwind on everyone he could in order for them to attack just a little bit faster - which would be much appreciated by the likes of Ganondorf or Geralt. He also applied Aerogas to the Moblins and later on to Phantom Ganon to allow those summoned minions to last a bit longer in their efforts.

As for Roxas himself. He generated and regenerated small walls of virtual cubes to obstruct the advancing movements of Skullngs while also occasionally firing off Thundagas to catch them in small clusters. And he wasn’t ignoring the breaking effort outright. Indeed, Roxas had called out Titan and Turbo for that purpose. Despite the Golett’s stature, its Shadow Punch and Stomping Tantrum were fairly well suited for helping the Seekers punch through the frozen sections of structures. Additionally Turbo was also helpful in that effort too, able to use her Iron Head to continually ram forward into the frozen walls.

Working on the coach would probably have actually been kind of relaxing if the Seekers weren't on the lookout for any Naytibas, and one in particular. Even with his guard up though Ace found the act of working out dents in the armored carriage and buffing out scratches to prevent any potential weak points from developing to be a little cathartic. It wasn't quite the same as working on a weapon, but it wasn't very far off either. Unable to feel the area's ambient chill, he even ended up sweating a bit by the end. Before the crew prepared to go he stepped back from the stagecoach, tilting his head, squinting his eyes, and framing it between his fingers.

"Not bad I guess," he said to himself, mulling over what he'd finished and what he could have done better or faster. Next time they stopped he'd take another crack at it. And maybe make it look cooler than just matte black metal? It did have intricate embossing, but it was sort of... somber looking. The journey so far had featured several rough spots, so maybe a nicer looking ride would be good for morale.

It was something to bring up later. One thing he did note and spoke up about was the little bit of extra space he thought the vehicle had, particularly on the outside. As everyone reconvened around the coach Ace nodded up towards its roof, where on one side stood the lightning rod. There was still plenty of space so he said, "I'm thinking if we find something similar, we can probably fit a ballista up there. Might help since it seems like everything wants to destroy our ride."

He said it somewhat lightheartedly, but it was true. He didn't know how long the journey on the Midnight Walk would be, but if it lasted a few days then he figured more defense on the coach itself was a good idea.

They advanced through the area into the Space Center, practically running right over the creatures that appeared to try and impede them. The audio log that Mokou had returned with that played over the short trip was curious, but ultimately everyone but Eve appeared to lack the context surrounding it. It was easy enough for Ace to put it out of his mind as he took in the Space Center's interior. It wall very sci-fi, but more notable were the corpses scattered around. That took Ace by surprise, since shouldn't they be just piles of dust? Unless... they'd been 'brought there' like that?

A brief inspection showed they were just bodies though, not zombies at rest or anything. Doing his best to ignore that red flag for now he traced the lift in the middle of the room that they'd seen from outside. They'd be splitting up soon from here then.

Despite the atmosphere he chuckled at Heismay's comment about 'space' though. "Whole lot more up there though! You never wanted to get closer to the stars?"

It sounded gargwawesome to him, getting to see what it was actually like up there. Not to mention he wouldn't have minded helping Adam and Eve with the Alpha Naytiba, but... he did not have an easy way of getting back down, something Sandalphon pointed out for anyone interested in accompanying her while she accompanied them. The Cadet had leapt from some pretty ridiculous heights before and been none the worse for wear, but he wasn't sure jumping from the edge of space was something he could actually survive.

Still would have been nice to see it though, so he turned to Sandalphon while they slowly moved into the next sector leaving a couple behind to get to work on the elevator. "Can you bring back one of those pictures you can make on the screens?" he asked her. It was probably the next best thing to seeing it themselves.

The archangel nodded, a smile literally in her eyes. "I can even make a recording."

Ace smiled back, very much looking forward that. "Groovios!"

They kept on, reaching and subsequently opening the door to the building complex's next section by breaking through a wall of fleshy tissue. Awaiting them inside were more than two dozen Naytibas in the shape of men. Or more accurately, attached to fallen men it seemed. And, naturally, a battle immediately broke out.

It was a proper battlefield, like the two sides of opposing armies they'd passed by earlier. On one side the Naytibas, rushing forward with weapons in hand or raising altered limbs to fire liquid from afar. On the other the Seekers and their host of companions in the form of minions, Pals, Pokémon, and much more. And, well, with all of that going on plus all the magic flying around courtesy of Roxas and Sandalphon... Ace wasn't keen on jumping into the fray at all. A shame he couldn't use his freshly sharpened long sword, but fortunately he was still just as well versed at ranged combat as he was melee.

Rather than the bow he'd used at the end of the fight with Belial, this time Ace brought out the Breechshot. It had good range, was accurate, and it packed a punch, so he could pick off these Cephalopod-wearing enemies from a distance while the bulk of the Seekers took them on in closer quarters. Each shot Ace fired struck one of the Skulls, but since he tended to fire at center mass when his targets were this small he only managed to down them temporarily as their heads slithered away after he'd already set his sights on the next one.

When Geralt called out that they should be targeting the Cephalopods themselves, Ace was quick to switch to going for head shots instead. Right, right, that makes sense! he thought, trading some of his speed and accuracy for cleaner, definite kills whenever his piercing ammo barrelled through the Skulling's bodies. As much as possible he focused the Skull Gunners to get them out of the way faster, though the melee-minded Skullings were no less trouble. One of the Skullings that had escaped death and snuck around the front line possessed a dormant corpse near the Cadet, creeping up with its hammer held high.

It wasn't built for stealth, so Ace spotted it before it could land its sneak attack - twisting to catch the hammer with the blade attached to the grip of his rifle. "Whoa there!" he said as the Skulling's weapon clanging against his own and slid off. He drew its arm back for another go while Ace flipped the rifle in his hands, getting more use out of that knife now than he had since he'd gotten the gun. He swung it like a miniature (for him) axe, sinking the sharp edge into the side of the Skulling's head. It twitched and fell backward, its actual body still attempting to wriggle away before a bullet turned it to ashes.

The Skullings on the ground were much harder targets to hit than those attached to their hosts, but if Ace spotted them and had a clear shot he took it. One by one he worked through the Skullings that appeared to thin out what the current frontliners had to fight through.

---

---

Ramattra sighed once the Shieldrixes became more docile at his and Edward’s efforts to attach them to the stagecoach. With the team of fusion-creatures now at the head of the vehicle, and being the effective muscle of transporting the Seeker’s base of operations, they moseyed into the Space Center with the Stagecoach in tow. Their new ally was quite the chipper one, seemingly showing some routine to the trio’s dynamic. Though the accent on her made him question if the United Kingdom existed in her universe, especially after learning the contents of the Legacy with the rest of the group. He exchanged no sympathy, unlike the trio; Ramattra was ostracized from his society for what was evidently the norm here.

The Omnic looked over at the creations afterwards with a sense of curiosity; the Reindrixes from before were obviously similar to regular reindeer from his world, but he still had a lot to learn about the magical and bio-mechanical oddities from other worlds. Touching the smoothed head of one of the Shieldrix, it would bray a mixed cry of two monsters at once, surely an outcast from either of the worlds it hailed from. Omnics had a natural curiosity about animals, and with the bitter taste towards humans temporarily logged in the back of Ramattra’s mind to focus on the mission ahead, his steel hands were removed from the faceplate of the beast. “I really do hope this doesn’t hurt you. I’m sure the land you came from was beautiful.” He had hoped their hardened heads would provide some more defense in the case Belial returned.

Before they attempted to infiltrate the Spire’s security, Ramattra would step to the side to discuss with Sandaphlon his interest in accompanying her to the top of the elevator. For a moment, the Omnic didn’t think much about Sandaphon’s recruitments, but began to grow concerned that none of the tankier Seekers were accompanying the four. With a gentle sigh, he explained, “I would like to tag around. No point in leaving all the muscle back with the Stagecoach. I am willing to figure out my own way to the rest of the group.”

Natiyba began to emerge from every corner once Lily started breaching the Spire’s defenses, expected, though the number that began to reveal themself was worrying to the Omnic. Was this going to be an elimination or a stakeout until the elevator is operational again?

Ramattra, while not wanting to sound like a coward in the situation, was at an extreme disadvantage. With the risk of clearing biomass possibly resulting in more Natiybas being alerted to their position, Ramattra (and possibly Blazermate) might as well have been walking into the world's largest metaphorical crow nest while clearing into each of the next sectors, and their metal chassis would make quite a good decorative piece for any Naytiba to try and crawl into. Given the possibility that this part of the process could take longer than the technical side, Ramattra didn’t want to risk the swarms of Natiyba overwhelming him specifically, despite them now seemingly only taking human shapes. “I don’t mean to reduce our numbers any, but the risk of my becoming possessed even if I am still living is not something I wish to take. I advise anyone else with a chassis to protect to do the same.”

Though he did not plan to make himself useless, Ramattra knew that the deployed ospreys and moas would not pose much threat, being weaker enemies, but he could see their numbers and scattered spore and gas flinging behaviors becoming a hazard to their flying and less mobile teammates. “I shall take on a temporary offense on a less risky threat. I will be nearby disposing of those sentry-like creatures” He took it upon himself to act as a dam between their additional forces and the rest of the Seekers, who pushed past the barriers of Natiyba. He was particularly glad to see their other muscle, Ganondorf, making haste with the rest of the team to clear the gunk that blocked them from the next sector.

“Leave the stragglers to me. Our support will need them to be taken care of.” The Omnic looked at the odd green glow of the hefty Buckler in his off hand. Wielding it while outside of Nemesis form would be impossible, but Ramattra knew his strengths were in muscle and strategy, and having more combat tactics and tricks in this world was seen as essential to Ramattra.

With his back to the team, and the aggravated swarm now attacking, Ramattra covered the area near the elevator. While his allies began to fell Skulling targets, the Omnic would wield his staff to fire at the Ospereys, which tried their hardest to drive their fleshy exterior into the Omnic’s body, leaving a vile trail of toxic gas that would prove more harmful to his breathing teammates. The Ospereys would quickly begin to seize any debris or dead body that lay previously, picking them into the air before beginning to throw the mass of flesh at the relatively stationary Omnic, along with his teammates.

With a deep robotic breath, Ramattra would try his hardest to focus his fire of Nanites onto the flying units. They were relatively weak, really only taking a couple of seconds of fire before being felled. They would explode into a mutated mess of viscera and machine before their remains would eventually fade away. He managed to snipe down a couple and manage to block a couple of extra projectiles being fired by the swarm of Ospereys. Ramattra would also try his best to collect as many of their spirits for resource gathering, since there was no other

The next immediate threat was the Natiyba sentryborgs, which provided basic anti-air and basic enemy spray. With a good portion of the fliers temporarily staved off, Ramattra could now focus on destroying them, their gunfire growing rather old to the monk, and with their relative size not being much larger than his crushing grip in Nemesis form, the Omnic would find it easy to crush them. Unfortunately for him, the only way to get closer… was to get closer, and with no other designated Tanks amongst White Team, it would be illogical to drop the only barrier protecting the working group to protect himself from some enemies.

Lucky for him, though, the Enchanted Buckler seemed to be the right weapon for this situation. Based on its general description from the Armory, it seemed to just absorb any kinetic impact, which, to Ramattra’s knowledge, would allow him to absorb at least a couple of seconds' worth of fire while rushing them. He sighed, hoping that he wasn’t about to thoughtlessly engage enemies.

With a familiar chime, the Omnic’s frame would change, converting him into Nemesis mode as he was now able to hold the large buckler up with ease, especially after injecting his biceps with Alchemist Cocktail, which, along with an unusual burst of adrenaline, also increased his general attack power. One by one, the bullets began to magically empower the green buckler on Ramattra’s fist, allowing him to marsh through the bullets with minimal scathes, though impossible to escape with none.

He began to thrash borgs to scrap like a prosecutor with a gavel, eliminating the threats with his fists of justice, before remembering that they did have melee self-defense as well, and would stab at the Omnic’s core with their spindly tails, Ramattra dodging away just by the metal off his chassis. He managed to clear quite a large amount during his cocktail rage, but unfortunately, that didn’t stop the threats from pushing. “How much longer here?” He tried his best to sound like he wasn’t rushing them, but with how many threats continued coming in, there was no telling how long they had left before they would be overwhelmed.

Amaterasu was a little late to the place they’d be fighting, which was located by a large statue of a kind of figure that looked considerably more well built than the few members of the same species who had gathered around to see the action.

When inquiring about the place they’d be fighting, the answer turned out to be a stone platform much like the one at the front of their meeting spot, a sandy island and a set of columns all of which sat just a bit of a way out from it in the water. When asked how they’d get there, the citizen in question had answered “I’m a chuckster!” and then asked “are you ready to go?”

They were not, because they still needed to talk shop about their opponents who were still yet to arrive.

“Chill out… The tournament ain’t startin’ yet. We’ll be ready when they are, okay?”

“Chill out… The tournament ain’t startin’ yet. We’ll be ready when they are, okay?”

Of course, Terry was referring to his team’s opponents when he answered the citizen’s question. He gave said ‘chuckster’ a thumbs up and a wink, his smile leaving his pearly teeth bare. K-64 was the exact arena Team Seekers was assigned to when it came to their first match. Compared to other arenas, it did seem significantly larger than the rest, considering that KOF was hosting a team-based competition in contrast to the traditional one-on-one format that most major tournaments adopted. In addition, there was a significant change in regards to the rule according to the update posted on the billboard, allowing every dueling fighter to compete simultaneously within their respective lanes, instead of taking turns. Thankfully, barely anybody was around to hear the trio conversing (save for some friendly, puffy fellows from beyond the stage), so while Team MUGEN was nowhere to be seen, Terry initiated the discussion.

“You guys saw the bracket?” the erstwhile KOF champion asked the obvious. “I know, it’s crazy, right? Like, everybody gets to face jobbers, while we get, what? Two kung fu experts and a friggin’ killin’ machine?” He sighed, then covered his face theatrically with one hand, shaking his head. He was unsure whether the sponsor was so desperate to see them lose or that they underestimated the Seekers’ combined capabilities. His gloved hand eventually left his face, shaking dismissively. “But whatever… The thing is ’least we have a literal goddess in our team. I just need to let y’all know that MUGEN the dojo’s notoriously known for creating ridiculously cheap fighters like the not-Akuma we’re about to face soon. I mean, seriously, we’re talking about the guy who can do just about anything, including creating clones of himself and summoning, like, a bunch of peeps balled together into one.”

And it showed. Terry wasn’t exaggerating his claim just one bit. Because when it came to the match itself…

“Gou Haa… DOUDOUDOUDOUKEN!!”

Amaterasu was immediately bombarded by a series of verdant, skull-shaped projectiles fired in her direction, her spiky-haired opponent exclaiming his battle cry in a somewhat glitchy voice. As if it wasn’t enough, Rare Akuma subconsciously deployed an army of mini clones upon the furred deity while he continued to fire the projectiles out of his palms, intending to overwhelm his opponent. The mini clones gathered around her, hurling flails and kicks which were about as impactful as their deployer’s were. They vanished into thin air, only to be replaced by another wave of exasperating, miniscule duplicates.

Only the sheer luck of having gotten the island arena gave Ammy the space she needed. Had it been the 2d plaza, or heavens forbid, the 3 pillars, she would have been ruined. As it was she was fighting for her absolute life here, which was to say, dashing to and fro on the sand to avoid the shots. Her disk came up to parry mini hims, her celestial beads blasted out to cut them down, but it was all defence. All she could do was hold, and her singed fur vs his pristine skin meant that was just delaying the inevitable.

She gritted her teeth as she recalled how she’d ended up with this insurmountable task.

“And that’s why, good boys and girls, I suggest Ammy should be the one tackling the madman,” Terry opined with a raised finger, as if knowing the kind of insanity that was about to ensue beforehand. “Because I’m pretty damn sure she can handle the guy just fine. I mean, she’s a goddess, right?”

She could only linger in that frustration for a moment however, as Rare Akuma brought his hand overhead, his open palm facing the bright blue sky. A verdant, almost blinding spark flared out of his palm briefly before a comically gigantic katamari of random fighters was summoned, triggering a massive quake as it dropped flat across the stage. He seized control over the ball of dozens, then pushed it towards Amaterasu with ease, his jogging strides only inches behind the reeling object.

The wolf’s jaw hung open for a heartbeat, and then she just turned and started running, leaving the Humanoid Amatarasu back on the shore shaking her head at the ridiculous scene of the pair running rings around the little island’s beach, and surf splashing everywhere as they went. She’d come along to cheer on her same named sister, but simply could not see how the wolf could win in the face of all the nonsense moves her opponent was throwing out.

Somehow, this wasn’t even the worst of it.

“Oh, and also, if you think of knocking him out, you just actually can’t because he’ll just bring himself back to life over and over,” Terry added, “which means, the only way any of us can do is to find the right opening to shove him outta the stage. Now about the Kung Fu fellas…”

Kung Fu Man—while not as laughably unbalanced as his partners were—wasn’t somebody to mess with, either. While Terry maintained his defensive stance, he continued to thrust his iconic ‘Kung Fu Palm’ technique against the blonde’s protective forearms, followed by a Kung Fu Blow and a devastating Kung Fu Upper. Each strike he delivered gradually cornered the erstwhile KOF champion to the stage’s precipice.

“C’mon, Terrance Bongo, you can do better than that, can’t you?” Kung Fu Man questioned, his slanted eyes narrowing. “Why do you keep blocking my techniques like that?”

“Buddy, I told you, it’s ‘Terry Bogard,’ not ‘Terrance Bongo,’” Terry reminded, then huffed, his exasperation partly veiled beneath the parrying forearms. “How many times do I have to tell you and your pals about my actual name now?”

“Not that I care,” the headbanded man reciprocated, continuing to pressure his opponent with stiff, punishing attacks. “Not until you taste this!”

With a flare of yellowish aura surging around him, Kung Fu Man lunged towards the Legendary Wolf with a leaping, riding knee, then followed by a high swinging kick, managing to break through the equally seasoned fighter’s defense. Terry was pushed several feet to the back, his glued forearms parting and an energy spark erupting upon collision.

WHAM!

“Gwahhh—!!”

Once the kick connected, Kung Fu Man landed on his feet, readjusting the black belt worn around his hips. He strode forth, watching as his heavier opponent picked himself off the sandy ground.

“Told you, if you cannot overcome the Kung Fu Palm, you cannot win!”

“Actually, though, I think I can go ahead with the Kung Fu dude,” Terry told his partners in the midst of the prior talk shop. “We’re kinda equal in a way. We’re fast, but not so fast, and it ain’t to mention that we can hit as hard as a boulder. And it just so happens that he tended to fight first in tourneys like this. Yeah, I know, the formation could change over time, but still. Not like it’s gonna be turn-based, anyway.” He shrugged, then glanced over the helmet-clad bounty. “And that leads us to you, Cap. The Kung Fu gal’s the second to fight most times. She’s quite fast and unpredictable, mind you. Think you’re up for the task?”

Given the Robert spirit in Cap’s possession, there was no doubt that he might’ve just been the right guy to withstand Kung Fu Man’s energetic sister. During their match, Kung Fu Girl attempted to lash her opponent, her stretching arm swinging in a blur. Once connected, she’d propel herself forth, her elbow ramming and her long crimson hair dancing along the whiffling gust.

“Well, that’s cute, Falcon-san,” Kung Fu Girl teased, her expression ever so cheerful. “I guess you’re a wee bit faster than Bongo-san is, but still not fast enough to keep up with me!”

But Kung Fu Girl was in for a surprise. Not only was Cap able to mostly keep up with her, but he even managed to outspeed her at points. That opening lash with her arm connected, but her follow up elbow strike hit nothing but air as the F-Zero Pilot pivoted aside to dodge it. Then his own leg lunged forward as he fired off ”Gen’ei Kyaku!” and landed three or four rapid kicks before his opponent could block the remainder.

”Not to worry,” Falcon assured Terry during the conversation, ”Speed is my speciality.”

As it was any other bouts hosted within the Pools, there were plenty of curious onlookers watching by the sidelines, catching up with the tournament’s equivalent of appetizers. Since they were still too early into the competition, it was palpable that not many spectators had come to attend the bouts, given that Top 16 and beyond were the true headlines of these major tournaments. The onlookers consisted mostly of fellow contestants brimming the outside of the makeshift stage, patiently awaiting for their turns to perform.

While the older heads took a moment to warm themselves up, the other, younger contestants chanted at the competing fighters out of boredom. As far as their perception of Team Seekers was concerned, however, it seemed to be fairly mixed, especially when it came to the Legendary Wolf’s side of the arena. It appeared that Terry’s past vocal remarks, coupled with the scuffle that he nearly had with KOF’s reigning champion two days ago, were to be blamed for the current sentiment surrounding him. While about less than a dozen shouted ‘let’s go Terry,’ the rest exclaimed ‘Terry sucks!’ and made sure to drown his die-hard admirers with their loud, exasperating noises.

“Same old trash! Same old trash!”

“Screw you, Terry!”

“You can’t fight!”

Regardless of what the other contestants had to say about him, though, Terry continued to give his best shot, locking the loud insults away from his ears. As he stood out of his kneeling position, the brawny blonde readjusted the cap around his head, his stance assumed. He managed a confident smile, despite the irritating mockery.

“Yo, Kung Fu dude! Ya hear what they’re sayin’?” Terry quipped with a wry snort, eliciting louder boos from the nearby onlookers. “Those peeps? Yeah, they’re countin’ on me, alright. You might wanna bring your A-game now if you wanna win big.”

“Terrance, are you serious?” Kung Fu Man asked, his dark eyebrow arching beneath the blue headband. “I thought those people were mocking you.”

“Well, duh… And I take ’em as a compliment,” he chimed in and rolled his eyes, his voice joyous yet sarcastic. “And don’tcha ask me if I’m serious, bud. I always get serious!”

It seemed that his tactics worked according to plan. Kung Fu Man was distracted—not only by the sudden boos aired around the island, but also by his opponent’s cheesy quips. With this in mind, Terry tightened his fists, layers of blue flames bursting around the gloved, balled hands. He drew himself forth, closing the distance with a roundhouse flail, then twirled around to ambush his opponent with a flaming, driving fist. His fiery knuckles hammered Kung Fu Man by his oriental features, launching him towards a different lane that set him colliding with the reeling katamari nearby. The collision bounced him back to his own lane of fight, his lean figure subsequently laying flat on his midriff.

“Ha! How about that, kung fu boy?”

Meanwhile, Rare Akuma continued to roll the vibrant ball further, closing the gap between the scurrying Amaterasu and himself. There could be heard hisses and groans coming from the katamari of random characters fighters with most begging for the blonde Akuma to stop tormenting and gluing them together. Not that he seemed to mind their demands, anyway. His sole focus was to mash the furred deity alive, adding her to the collection of fighters he’d beaten senselessly prior to today.

“Mm… Candy, candy, candy… Must find more candy!” the pale-skinned demon yapped, oblivious to every word that came out of his mouth. “Quit messing around, Amaterasu-chan! You cannot—for your life—outrun your tribal chief. Why’d you play games with me??”

As the glaringly one-sided bout heated, so had the battle-seeking onlookers entered the observer mode. The once senseless cheers and jeers shifted into a mock-up discussion forum, as the awaiting fighters opined and shared what they learned from the ongoing bout in case they needed inspiration for theirs.

“Ouch… Poor little wolfie! I think she’s so close to getting kicked out of the stage,” said a Mii brawler sporting a Rabbid hat and a white, tight-fitting battle suit.

“Gee… You’re right! I’m worried about that Falcon guy, too. Those whips look like they can hurt a ton!” said a regular sword-wielding Mii.

*that hungry wolf. I still can't forgive him for stealing my spot at the last tourney,* said a skull-masked Mii Gunner in an accusatory tone. *it should've been me, not him. He's going to have a terry-ble beat down if we ever meet.*

“Objectively speaking, this match is everything wrong about Esaka’s major tournament outlets. How’s that Akuma clone even allowed to compete? I thought he was banned,” said the obnoxious fighting game developer from when the Seekers visited the Teahouse, his glasses still fractured following the disastrous tag battle. “This is so unfunny! You see, people? Once again, I was right. This entire city needs to be re-balanced. And don’t get me started with that sloppy, hat-wearing garbage over there. He still hasn’t learned much from his last match. This is the King of Fighters tournament, for goodness sake, and yet, he moves and fights like a freaking snail! This is low-tier quality at best!”

“Oi, shut it, geek! Don’t you dare mock Terry like that! He’s my brother,” an eccentric man with a blonde pompadour warned, his appearance a comical fusion of Iori and the man he claimed to be his ‘brother.’

Over in the match against Kung Fu Girl, Team Seeker’s captain was still evenly trading quick shots with the energetic girl in question. “Oooh, you’re faster than you look!” Kung Fu Girl quipped with a somewhat flirty smile, “Am I gonna have to start taking this more seriously, Falcon-san?”

”You’d better.” Cap warned, paying no heed to any of the heckling going on in the audience. He’d had more than his share of hecklers throughout his racing career. This wouldn’t really feel any different to him. Besides, it just meant there were that many more people for him to eventually win over. So either way, it was all good fun to him. ”Unless of course you’d rather risk getting knocked out because you underestimated me.”

“Nuh-uh! No way!” Kung Fu Girl verbally fired back before channeling energy into one of her chibi avatar strikes. The cute little version of herself flew right toward Captain Falcon like a Hadoken with a mind of its own, zigging and zagging about as if deliberately trying to be as unpredictable as possible while zeroing in on the intended target. And when Cap managed to dodge it, Kung Fu Girl simply fired off a handful more thinking he couldn’t possibly avoid them all.

And, well, he couldn’t. Sure, Falcon avoided the first one but the other two still caught him. He managed to block them out by the end, but not before taking some unflattering chip damage in the process. ”I’ll right, let’s play this out then…” the Bounty Hunter said as he charged up chi in his arms and legs, ”...Ryuugeki Sen!” He launched his own fiery projectiles, hurling fire disks at Kung Fu Girl as she scrambled to dodge them.

“Still too slow!” She taunted, having managed to avoid damage more effectively than Cap previously did against her chibis. Then she lashed at her opponent with an elongated arm strike. But Falcon had a plan this time. He let the strike connect, but didn’t dodge out of the way of the follow up lunge he was now anticipating. Instead the F-Zero pilot launched himself forward and met Kung Fu Girl head on with an electrified knee strike.

”Knee of Justice!” The Captain called out as his knee connected with Kung Fu Girl and sent her staggering back as he relaxed into a readied fighting stance.

“Y-You let me hit you so you could lure me into a trap?” Kung Fu Girl demanded with an indignant huff. Cap didn’t answer but for a shrug of his shoulders. However, the grin on his face told Kung Fu Girl all she needed to know: guilty as charged.

Meanwhile, Kung Fu Man still attempted to pick himself up. He wasn’t expecting Terry to hit him in the face as hard as he did. The collision with the prior katamari couldn’t help, either, as it worsened the impact further. As he tried to maintain a steady, upright posture, the leader of Team MUGEN shook his head, his face still red and warm. He rubbed his eyes, clearing the blur hampering his vision, only to see that Terry had stood right across from him tauntingly. The former Team Fatal Fury’s chief whistled, then waved his hand beckoningly, gloved palm facing up.

“Hey, c’mon, kung fu boy!” he urged playfully. “Can’t hear what I’m saying? Stand up!”

Kung Fu Man hardly grinned. He didn’t really say anything. After both men assumed their respective stances again, they circled and gauged each other up, ignoring all the deafening noises coming from both the other competing fighters and the roar of the onlookers. Eventually, Terry closed the distance, hurling himself forth with a spinning back kick. A series of attacks played out, consisting of a backhanded fist and a subsequent…

“CRACK SHOOT!”

Which was met by the onlookers’…

“Same old trash! Same old trash!”

The brawny blonde performed an acrobatic leap as he executed said move, bringing his boot over his head then aiming to drop his calf flat across the kung fu practitioner’s shoulder. Not even the display of agility mesmerized the other fellow contestants. While the first two attacks connected, the Crack Shot, unfortunately, did not. Kung Fu Man dashed back, slightly distancing himself from the leaping Terry before catching the latter off guard with an amped-up Kung Fu Upper, the prior yellowish aura blinking and exuding out of his lean figure. His bare knuckles grazed against the erstwhile KOF champion’s torso, sending him flying towards the shore.

“Arghhh–!!”

“Boooo…!!”

As Terry landed, he reeled back rather harshly, halting only after he pressed his knee against the ground’s sandy surface. A splash of bright, blue water welcomed him from behind, as if to remind him of just how close he was to getting yeeted out of the island. While he stood out of his kneeling position, he shifted his attention towards the onlookers watching from the outside of the makeshift arena, their cheers and jeers echoing louder than before. Among the predominantly mocking bunch were the same puffy residents dancing and voicing their support for Team Seekers, alongside a carambas playing cactus-like figure sporting a sombrero and, of course, Terry’s best buddy Ukee. The little monkey hopped and flailed the air enthusiastically, making screeching noises that Terry could only decipher as the signs of support.

“Alright, alright… Thanks a lot, you guys! I appreciate that, but um…”

Dazed, Terry still struggled to keep himself steady, his eyes narrowing and his hand running around the back of his neck. Perhaps, Kung Fu Man had flailed him a little harder than what the brawny blonde did to him prior. When Terry peered over Ukee one last time, the monkey seemed to be pointing a little finger forth, as if telling his human bestie to focus on the sight in front of him. Already picking up what his best buddy was telling him, the brawny blonde looked away, focusing back on his lane. Much to his surprise…

“HYAHH—!!”

In a blur of white and blue, Kung Fu Man charged his shoulder forth, the same yellowish aura still radiating around his lunging form. Terry’s eyes instantly went wide at the sight, his lips parting in a gasp. In a blink of an eye, the three-time KOF champion sidestepped out of harm’s way, just inches before the shoulder tackle connected.

Kung Fu Man halted, both feet braking, disbelief evidenced on his face. This was a perfect opportunity to retaliate, Terry thought. So, from a different angle, he closed in and welcomed his opponent with a sliding kick, rendering the latter unsteady with a…

WHAM!

“You still suck!”

“You still can’t fight!”

Then, a mockery applause echoed, rhyming effortlessly with the chants. As the bout reached its climax, so had the mock-up audience broken out of their observing, almost speechless state completely. Terry heard it loud and clear: they demanded something different from his fighting methods. If that was what they wanted, he might as well add a little twist to what he was about to do next.

One gauge stock was obtained. About time he spiced things up. As he stood out of his sliding form, Terry drew his fist back, then pummeled Kung Fu Man with a body blow, subconsciously activating the only gauge stock in his possession.

“Okay!”

If a devastating blow to the gut wasn’t enough, the three-time KOF champion swung an uppercut, his knuckles firmly hammering his opponent’s mandible. The impact was more than enough to launch Kung Fu Man skywards, drops of red forcing out of his mouth and nostrils. Before his opponent could even recover, Terry had smacked the sandy ground with a charged fist, a quake erupting as an energy torrent surged out of the surface to catch Kung Fu Man in mid-air.

KA–BOOM!

“POWER… DUNK!!!”

The Heat-Up Geyser was executed, its impact greatly depleting his opponent’s half-full health. Odd, indeed, that he shouted ‘Power Dunk,’ but it seemed likely that he’d forgotten the desperation move’s name, considering he hadn’t used it in a long while. On the other side, though…

The Leader of Team Seekers was still going at it with Kung Fu Man’s excitable sister. She came at the F-Zero Pilot in a blur white and red, arms and even legs elongated for high speed whiplashes. Falcon, for his part, had to plant his feet and stay blocking for most of it. In fact he was half expecting to get shield-broken by her relentless assault. But Falcon was surprised when that shield break never came. In fact, his shield bubble never seemed to deplete - not from the incoming strikes nor over time.

He did, however, notice that it was no longer omnidirectional and instead was focused directly in front of him. That meant he had to pivot between high and low and even left and right. It nearly caught him off guard at first, resulting in a stinging slap from one Kung Fu Girl’s elongated limbs catching him on his left cheek. But he adapted and quickly figured out an optimal defense for this assault was to simply crouch down so high strikes were always missing and low strikes would only worry about the front and sides. It wouldn’t be long before her attack ran out of gas.

And that was exactly what happened. Kung Fu Girl’s lashing limbs eventually slowed to a stop as she inhaled ragged breaths to fight off the biting edges of fatigue, “Not… bad, Falcon-san…” she rasped out, refusing to show weakness.

”My turn now!” The Captain snapped back and launched himself forward across the ground at the winded Kung Fu Girl, his leg and body becoming wreathed in scorching flames. ”Falcon Kick!” The fiery slide collided with the girl’s legs as she was still catching her breath and didn’t dodge in time to avoid it. The kick itself wasn’t super powerful, but it did let Cap close the gap between himself and his opponent. And it also put him in a position to follow up by bringing up a fiery fist, ”Raptor Boost!” Which produced a flaming uppercut that managed to launch Kung Fu Girl straight up a few feet.

And while the red-haired fighter was still processing it all, Falcon proceeded to follow up again by spending the Power Gauge Stock he’d built up throughout their fight and jumped up in pursuit of his launched opponent. He then juggled her in the air, ”Kuzuryusen!” by performing three backward somersault kicks in a row. And while Falcon landed safely back on his feet, Kung Fu Girl hit the wooden platform hard and had to stagger back to her feet from having the wind knocked right out of her.

“Nngh…” Kung Fu Girl grunted, “...Now you’re in for it!” She charged for a Kung Fu Palm, lunging forward at the same time. Captain Falcon responded by charging his own fiery fist and winding up for a punch to meet her head on.

”Falcon-!”

“Kung Fu Palm!”

”PUUUUNCH!”

The strikes collided head on. The explosive nature of Falcon’s iconic signature technique created a falcon-shaped blast of fire from his fist that kicked up a cloud of smoke and dust that obscured the results of the clash for a handful of suspenseful seconds. But when that smoke cleared, it was indeed the F-Zero Pilot who was still standing, sparks and smoke emanating from his gloved fist.

As for Kung Fu Girl, her technique wasn’t able to overpower the raw explosive power of the Falcon Punch, and she was now sprawled on the wooden floor of the platform in a smokey heap, alive thanks to the Heavenly Principles, but certainly defeated. Golden letters appeared above their heads as a loud voice announced the end of their bout to the onlookers.



Although, just moments before the team got to that point…

“Just keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’... What!? Keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’, rollin’... C’mon!”

‘Akuma’ still continued to roll the katamari around the island, the ball of defeated fighters becoming scarily close to Amaterasu. He wasn’t alone, though, as he deployed another wave of mini clones to hinder her movement with spams of Zankuu Hadouken, the skull-shaped projectiles bombarding the furred deity from every corner. Even worse now that the projectiles didn’t easily dissipate, proceeding to fly around the island with the majority of them nudging the coconut tree nearby. Eventually, should the mini clones manage to swarm around Amaterasu…

“Haha! Behold my mighty feet and despair!”

BAM!

…‘Akuma’ would kick the ball forth with a spinning Tatsumaki Zankuu Kyaku like it was a game of soccer, laughing and screeching like a maniac. He then struck his arms out and stomped the ground with one foot, another, smaller quake resurfacing as he assumed his charging pose. He easily filled all three power meters in his possession, only to utilize all three of them to execute the greatest and, perhaps, the cheapest super move in the history of Esaka’s major tournaments.

“Prepare yourself! Die one morbillion deaths!”

With a knee raised and an exaggerated pose struck, ‘Akuma’ dashed towards the besieged Amaterasu. Tightly, he grasped the unfortunate deity with both of his enormous hands, ready to bombard her with a few more blows. At the same time, he’d hear the onlookers chanting ‘this is madness!’ at the monstrosity that was about to come. Clearly, it didn’t sit too well with him.

“Madness? This is Messatsu!!”

Silence emerged and the darkness quickly swarmed around the lunatic and the deity, shrouding them entirely. ‘Akuma’ was so close to pummel and maul Amaterasu with his renowned Disco Trip Satsu until…

DING!

DING!

The bell rang, signifying that the bout had come to a halt. The blinding gleams in his eyes faded, and so had the cold, frightening darkness surrounding the two. Once the bright, vibrant island became apparent again, ‘Akuma’ took a moment to inspect his partners, noticing that they’d been laying flat on the sandy ground unconscious. As per the new rules, given that two participants from Team MUGEN had been defeated, the Heavenly Principles had decided that the winners of the bout were Team Seekers.

“Yo, what the fuck!? This is certified uncool! I told you, you must train harder to surpass your damage scaling!” ‘Akuma’ loudly reprimanded his battered teammates from afar, his grip on Amaterasu loosening. But then, he snorted wryly, trying to compose himself. “Very well… Know that you both have sacrificed yourselves for my sins.” With a rather eerie look, he glanced back over the furred deity, finally releasing her. “I was just kidding back there. I’m not unbalanced. It is you who are underpowered, Amaterasu-chan. If it wasn’t for the download queue, I would’ve beaten you already.”

As he assumed an upright stance, ‘Akuma’ glanced up and raised his hand, a bright, verdant light materializing atop his pale palm. He began to ascend, leaving every contestant (including his own team) alone.

“Until next time,” he bid his farewell, looking down at every puzzled participant with fiery, gleaming eyes. “Much love, your tribal chief. Acknowledge me!”

Amaterasu just watched him go, and then after a long, long moment, let out the breath she’d been holding in, incredibly grateful that being ‘defeated’ by the bell had gotten past Galeem’s rules about fights having to end once they were started.

Overall, however, despite the harrowing experience on her end, it looked like everything had gone just as planned. Now there was just the slight issue of getting back given that the way they’d gotten here had been somewhat one way in nature.

---

“So, we’re set now,” Terry had concluded the planning discussion before adding: “And one more thing. When the match starts, there’s gonna be a bunch of curious onlookers watching us by the sidelines. They can get a bit too extreme at times, so whatever you do, just ignore them, alright? Don’t let them discourage you from fighting. I know our opponents are gonna be tough, but y’all better give your best shot, okay? Win or lose, ’least we try.”

Despite what he said, Terry did half-expect his team to win their first match. It wasn’t just about pressing toward the mark for the prize anymore (even though he did need it to afford his prior bill without bothering Pit nor Nadia). There were people to be freed and tyrants to be overcome. They couldn’t just lose so easily, could they? Not when the whole world was counting on them.

It didn’t take long until Team MUGEN arrived with both Kung Fu siblings casually entering the island. Following them was the ever-so-eccentric Rare Akuma descending from above the sky, a broom in his hand and an apron worn over his gi-clad upper frame. Landing on both feet, ‘Akuma’ tossed the broom into the water, then ditched the apron he’d been wearing as part of his entrance gear, warming up for the bout. Not long after, a few battle-seeking onlookers crowded the area, consisting of Amingo, ‘Sans,’ S-Kill, and ‘Iori.’

“Alright! Looks like our guys are here,” Terry told his partners, then bumped his knuckles and palm together, subsequently allowing Ukee to climb out of his shoulder to join the awaiting crowd. “You two ready? ’Cause I know I am.”

Surely, they couldn’t just compete right away. As per tradition, the Four Kings emerged from their respective towers, making a brief announcement before the tournaments could officially begin. Contrary to the other kings, Rugal didn’t say anything much. Mostly, he just watched and sipped the glass of wine in his gloved grip, his eyes seemingly wandering the KOF side of the Pools.

While the vicious cartel leader wasn’t paying attention, Terry had been glaring at him the whole time from beneath the skyscrapers, his teeth gnashing and his fists hardening. Once again, he was reminded of why this year’s edition of KOF felt personal to him. Rugal was that reason, and he’d made it clear to himself over time that he wasn’t here to compete as a clueless, regular fighter he tended to resemble. Perhaps, he truly needed that victory. More than ever. Not because he needed to add a fourth championship in his possession, but because he needed to find out what was hiding beneath the top floor of that tower—that he needed to rescue the ones he held the dearest to his heart if they turned out to be held captive alongside Rugal’s collection of bronze statues. Of course, it wouldn’t be possible if his team didn’t—at the very least—make it to the finals where they were offered a chance to challenge the sponsor for the title.

Then, as the Four Kings headed back into their respective towers, two Combots approached the makeshift arena, each deployed towards each competing team. The machines offered both teams a tablet each, their respective names and numbers displayed by the screens.

“Select your order.”

Here came the bit that should have been a guessing game, but which Amtarasu got around with a little sneaky perspective detachment trick, pausing the world when Rare moved to press a button, wheeling her view around, and taking a look at what his order was. First, unsurprisingly. She then unpaused time and poked her own section to set herself to one as well.

As they filled these out, six of the local Piantas approached, each one moving to meet one of the contestants. Upon the order getting set out, they helpfully, once again, informed the fighters “I’m a chuckster!” before grappling them and hurling them out over the water to the stages.

Stages that, now that the fight was over, the fighters now found themselves a bit stuck on. Well except for Rare of course, who had just ascended into the sky somehow.

Several more moments passed, and, with no ship approaching or anything of the sort, it looked like the expected return method was pretty clear: they were going to have to swim.

”Well… I guess I could use a cooldown after that fiery finish.” Falcon said with a shrug before he dived in and started swimming. It wasn’t exactly hard for him, as he was already basically an athlete anyway so this may as well have been a recreational swim. And he unsurprisingly reached the shore first, because of course he did.

Terry was just behind him, while Amatertsu arrived on shore last, mainly because she’d had to sail over on a lilypad one gust of wind at a time, but at least she was dry as a result of this unlike everyone else. Said boon wasn’t the main reason she’d done this however. The main reason was because she couldn’t swim, a fact she very much intended to not come up while they were still down in the pools.

She now glanced from one wet human to the next, scrunched her nose a little at the smell, and then tilted her head as if to enquire ‘so what next?’

---

Along the way to the Mortal Kombat section of the tournaments’ first rounds, a fight had broken out. Rancid, a square-jawed punkish man with a bald head, a green ponytail, an x scar on his forehead and a wicked chainsaw in his hands, was thrown through the glass window of a bar. It was a seedy, obscure place called Downright Fierce. The most notable thing about it was probably the clientele, and the most notable thing about Rancid was probably the fact that he was pumping fresh red blood out of his left arm socket stump.

“You think I need both arms to fight?!” Rancid taunted. A familiar Juri Han set her foot on the frame of the broken window. In her hand was a beer bottle that she finished off with a long swig, before chucking it at Rancid. He batted it out of the air with a back hand. Juri laughed and sprinted at him, ready to pounce. She got a kick to the gut for her trouble, sending her sprawling until she smacked against the building she just left. In her off hand she was wielding, well, the guy's other arm, still bleeding.

”C’mon, you good for nothin’ street trash…” She said, her voice even more drawn out than usual. In fact, it was a bit slurred. ”Gimme my chainsaw back, and I’ll trade ya…yer arm!” She stood up and wiggled it at him. She had a few bruises and cuts on her already as her health ki began to fail her.

“This is my fucking chainsaw, and that’s my fucking arm!” He said. He grabbed the pull cord of the chainsaw between his teeth and yanked, his muscles bulging as he got the deadly machine working again.

“How about this for a trade: you give me my arm back, and I’ll take your head!” With that, he began to charge her, raising his weapon in the air.

”Give it yer best shot, handsome.” Juri leaned forward and beckoned the man forth with one finger, her Feng Shui engine glowing. She was going to counter his next move, disappear in a blur, invisible to the naked eye.

He swung, and she was gone, teleporting behind him…landing face first on the ground, skidding across the street as she completely fumbled her execution.

”That’s my chainsaw. I got it from…uhh…the fuckin’ meat tower…” She mumbled, muffled, into the street as she pushed herself up. Rancid’s other arm lay limp next to her, though it had somehow contorted itself into giving her the middle finger.

Rancid was upon her immediately, kicking her side and launching her into the air. He grabbed her ankle and yanked her back down towards him, slamming his forehead into her nose.

”Gah!” Juri landed flat on her back.

“You’re dead meat!” The punk shouted. Rancid stomped on her torso, raised his chainsaw over his head, and slammed it down on her. She crossed both of her arms, blocking the weapon from cutting her face off. There was a deluge of blue sparks as her ki struggled to keep the chainsaw off her.

”You’re really…pissin’...me off!” Juri strained through grit teeth. At this point the Yokai were gathering, ready to witness some real carnage before the tournament even began. Their ethereal bodies faded in and out along with their words, whispers and overt commentary both surrounding the street brawl. The other patrons of the bar, more or less used to this kind of thing (the dismemberment was a little new) left Esaka's spiritual populace to their entertainment, and the din of their clicking claws, tapping talons, and flapping wings gradually built beneath the angry buzz of the chainsaw.

The sound of feathers and light footfalls quickly growing louder was completely drowned out, so the appearance of a third combatant entering the fray took all those present by surprise - though none more so than Rancid. Suddenly there was a weight on his back and a hand yanking on his weird ponytail hard enough to wrench his head, and by extension his whole upper half, backward.

"What are you doing?! Get off of her!"

Though he kept a stubborn hold on his weapon Rancid staggered back a few steps, giving Juri some space as he twisted around to try and catch the new assailant with a wild swing of the saw. The angel held on just as stubbornly, though.

Juri propped herself up on her elbows as the guy she started a fight with was suddenly accosted from behind by Pit. Pit was hanging onto his ponytail and being swung around. The side made the drunk trouble maker laugh.

”Couple of morons!” She jeered without so much of a hint of gratitude.

Rancid grit his teeth. He stomped on the ground and jerked his upper half forward with a huge headbutt towards the air. If Pit wanted to hold onto his ponytail, he would be flung clear over Rancid from the momentum! The Street Hero would release his chainsaw and grab his second assailant by the leg.

Even from behind his sunglasses, the bemusement on Rancid was obvious as he frowned. ”What the-?! Stay outta this, kid!” He went to fling Pit away and refocus his ire on Juri. Apparently the ponytail grab hadn’t triggered his Galeem aggression.

Unfortunately for Rancid, the angel didn't fly very far when he was thrown. More than used to getting tossed around by now, Pit righted himself with a flap of his wings as soon as the green haired man released him and with another he landed between Rancid and Juri. He hadn't had time to really take in the situation before jumping in, and he still didn't have the full picture now, but there was at least one thing he was sure of.

"No way! She's... my teammate! If you got a problem with her then you've got a problem with me too!" he said.

Maybe it was because he'd been holding onto a different disembodied arm for a while the night before that he didn't have a bigger reaction when he actually realized the guy's arm had been very recently cut off beyond growing a little paler. He didn't retract his statement though, and he let Juri's own comment slide like water off a duck's back. As violent, mean, and at times annoying as she could get, she was his teammate. And right now, she was also technically his responsibility.

"So come on! ...or just accept your loss and go to a hospital or something!" Pit had yet to see anyone successfully talk down someone triggered into fighting, but if there was ever a chance to convince someone they'd lost in order to de-aggro them then it was probably the guy in danger of passing out from blood loss at some point soon.

Pit’s assumption was reasonable, but Rancid’s condition didn’t seem to be getting any worse now that his arm was off. If it even hurt, he wasn’t showing it.

“Yeah? Well, ‘your teammate’ was harassin’ people at the bar, and tried to steal my fucking chainsaw. The only one who should be in the hospital is her, after I’m through!” Rancid declared.

“And she ripped off my arm!” He said, pointing his chainsaw past Pit at Juri.

”What, you mean this?!” Juri asked facetiously, waving it around again. Juri got to her feet and went to stumble past Pit. Had she been drinking since the early morning?

”I’ll give you your arm back. In fact, I’ll shove it so far down your throat you’ll be able to tie yer shoes with it!” Juri said.

"That doesn't even make sense," Pit said, mostly to himself. He held his own arm out to impede Juri from getting by. Glancing back at her, his nose wrinkled from the potent smell of alcohol now that she was this close. He didn't question the harassment accusation because he believed it was true - it was what he'd come to expect from the woman.

But everything else, though? Okay he wasn't sure about the dismemberment but that aside, as far as Pit knew she hadn't shown up at all since he and Sakura had seen her yesterday morning even just to tease the Seekers, and the way she moved, spoke, and smelled suggested she'd been drunk for a while now despite it being so early. Though he still couldn't say he knew her well, it was weird, wasn't it? This wasn't the usual Juri... was something wrong with her?

If something was going on, he wanted to find out. And that meant dealing with this punk first. Normally he wouldn't have any qualms about laying the smack down on a no good trouble maker, but seeing as Juri probably started it, Pit was hesitant to just knock the guy out and hope someone else looked after him. Thankfully there was an easy way to get around both issues.

"Gimmie that!" Pit snatched the arm from Juri, his expression momentarily warping into being grossed out before he turned and chucked the limb at Rancid. "Here, take your arm!"

His other hand had tapped his chest, sending a pink heart flying close behind the arm that sailed into Rancid whether he dropped his saw to catch his missing body part or not. When the brief flash of light came and went, the man was newly healed; completely and wholly, as if he'd never had his arm torn from him at all. "There, now you got both back! Even now?"

Rancid blinked. In both of his hands was his own dismembered arm! “...Woah! Radical! Thanks, dude!” This odd and macabre circumstance seemed to delight him. With that he headed off.

There was a beat where Pit braced for more, in whatever form it may have come in, but it was a pleasant surprise that the guy took the encounter's conclusion in stride. Now that that was settled Pit whirled around to face Juri, his expression a mix of both annoyance and worry - if she could even tell in her current state. "And you! What happened to you?"

”What happened to me?” Juri asked. She poked Pit hard in the forehead. ”What happened to you! While you were getting bombed, I was doing the bombing!” She laughed.

”I killed that ‘M. Bison’ last night. I blew his ass up. Sent his ass back to the great…” She looked up and pushed out her hands. ”...the great recycling center in the sky! Maybe next time he won’t be such an annoying little shit.” She said. Then, she kicked a rock with extreme precision despite her state, sending it flying into the distance.

The confirmation that Juri was actually using the linkpearl if only to listen in would have been nice to hear had the news she followed it up with not washed away pretty much everything else that preceded it. Committing her own assassination attempt on one of the four kings! Or... if her words to be believed, it hadn't been just an attempt at all. Pit didn't even make a comment about everyone being alright, he was too busy with being surprised.

"What? You-? Seriously?" he said, his gaze sliding from Juri up to where she was looking too, though he searched for the towers of Top Tier. Naturally he wasn't able to see it from there. "But I thought...?"

Xilgrev hadn't lied to them, had he? There was no reason for him to. Then again, there wasn't any reason for Juri to be lying right now either, and- and she didn't know what everyone else did about the nature of Esaka's Guardian.

"Are you sure?" Pit asked, snapping his attention back to the street fighter. "Like really sure?"

”Of course I’m sure!” She shouted, turning on Pit. ”I stuck my freakin’ hand into his socket! I was gonna rip his god damn eye out, finally pay him back for mine!” She said. When she said that, she paused, and glared at Pit with a tilt of her head. Her green eye glinted malevolently.

”Want me to demonstrate on you? So you can be super duper extra sure?” Juri asked.

In another situation Pit might have dared to tell her that she was all talk and she wouldn't actually do that to him, but right now it was hard to tell. He didn't shrink away from her, but his own eyes widened when she let slip that her missing one was due to Bison before they narrowed slightly. He took in a deep breath and crossed his arms.

"No, I believe you! ...um, good job. But now we gotta speed things up for the other three kings..."

He wasn't sure how long they had. One day? Two? Or maybe a lot less time? When he trailed off Pit glanced back at the bar's broken window, hoping that with the fight over no one was curious enough to listen in on this particular conversation. He'd get together with everyone and come up with a plan for the Guardians later - it wasn't the most important thing at the moment.

"So then you what? Were... celebrating, or something? Instead of coming to find us?" His nose scrunched up again, making it clear what he thought about that.

Juri stood up straight and set her hands on her hips. ”...Shut up, you little twerp.” Juri said, also making her thoughts pretty clear. She meandered over to the broken window of Downright Fierce and stepped inside. Everyone had pretty much cleared out. If there were many powerful fighters in Esaka, most of them weren’t hanging out getting drunk in bars before the big tournament series. Besides Rancid, no one wanted to challenge her act.

Juri grabbed someone’s half-used glass and started drinking from it. A TV was on, showing the festivities.

"Hey, I'm being serious!" Pit followed after her, taking a moment to look around the darkened interior. "You could've let us know and we would have helped you. Or at least changed our plans, or... I dunno, thrown you a better party after!"

He sounded less annoyed and more unsure as he went on. " 'cause it doesn't really seem like you're that happy about it? ...are you okay?"

Pit's bright blue-green eyes flickered over her, trying to see if the little injuries she sported were just from the tussle with Rancid or if some were from last night. If she'd taken on Bison alone, had she gotten hurt doing it?

She didn’t seem much worse for wear anymore. Even on alcohol her body was a finely tuned fighting machine. ”You chumps would have just gotten in my way.” She said.

”And you don’t actually wanna throw me a freakin’ party.” Her stolen glass empty, she picked up a bottle that had rolled onto the floor with her foot. She brought it all the way up to the counter and set it there for later.

”So quit it with the sunshine act. It’s annoying.” She said. ”I really can’t stand people like you.” She muttered, rubbing her face with both of her hands.

"Just 'cause I don't want to be doom and gloom all the time?" Though he was close by, Pit did not join her at the counter. He stood a couple of feet away while they talked, fidgety and somewhat awkwardly trying to find a place for his hands. There was a lot going on, from trying to keep track of how much time was left before the matches started to still really wrapping his head around Juri's actions.

"Well you're gonna have to get used to it! I'm trying to make sure you're alright! Plus there's a lot of stuff we have to tell you, about Bison and the rest of them and everything else going on!"

”’Cause you act like you’re better than me!” Juri said, baring her teeth at Pit. Then she hiccuped. ”’Ooh, I’m trying to make sure you’re alright!’” Juri mocked in a falsetto voice, pushing up the sides of her face to make her look more cherub-like.

She let her face go and set her hands back on the counter. ”What do you think this is? The meaner I am to you, the better person you are for stickin’ around? Is that it?” Juri said.

She clawed her hands in the air for a moment for slamming them down on the counter with a resounding thud. ”It pisses me off! For real! Goddammit!”

The covert feathers on Pit's wings bristled up slightly. "I told you before that's not what this is about!"

He practically bit his tongue to stop himself from accusing her of projecting. As much as he meant to eventually pay her back for his loss last time, he didn't actually want to antagonize her at the moment, accidentally or otherwise.

"Being mean doesn't stop you from being one of us you know. Look, I get it, you're allergic to people caring about you or something. If you wanna be left alone to do... this-" with both of his arms he gestured broadly to the interior with all its dingy lighting, bar fight scarred furniture, and acrid stenches. "-then fine. But I'm at least gonna do my captain's duties before I let you off the hook!"

Juri set her cheek on her hand, smiling at Pit. ”’Did you? I wasn’t paying attention. Yeah, I’m allergic to annoying wannabes like you and your pity and your superiority. Makes me think next time I kick your ass I won’t let you off the hook.”

She shook her head and popped the lid off another bottle. ”’I’m ‘mean.’ Unbelievable.” She muttered to herself as she raised it to her lips. Juri raised her other hand and waved it around in a ‘go on’ gesture. ”Spit it the hell out, then. If it’ll finally get you to buzz off.”

There's no winning with her, is there? Pit thought to himself with a frown. Juri was really hard to deal with, but the angel hadn't been lying when he said he cared about her well being. It was the same for all of his teammates, both those he was close with and those he wasn't. And, well, he didn't like not winning, so it was unlikely he'd give up on her anytime soon. Still, if his usual attitude frustrated her so much then true to his word he could be Captain Pit for a little while - though he'd definitely never had a Centurion as unruly as her.

Pit sighed, fluffing his wings out with one quick snapping motion before tucking them back in like he was resetting himself. Then he held up a finger.

"You heard us all get attacked last night, so you heard me call for a status report. First, give me yours now," he said. His voice had taken on a more serious tone, but he couldn't completely stop his feelings from bleeding into it.

Juri rolled her eyes. ”’I didn’t hear it, I saw it. I was…y’know, I was high up and saw a place get bombed. Who else could it be but you losers?”

Pit blinked, as that thought hadn't occurred to him at all. "Uh... fair." They did always get into trouble regardless if it was connected to saving the world or not. He shook his head though. "Well then you're hearing it now, so status report first!"

Next a second finger joined the first before he pointed at the TV with the same hand. "Then debrief. Did anything weird happen when you fought Bison? Or when he died? We found out he's one of this area's Guardians, but now that he's gone if we don't hurry up and deal with the other Kings he's just gonna come right back!"

Juri narrowed her eyes at him. ”’What the hell are you talking about? Each zone only has one Guardian. M. Bison wasn’t- he wasn’t that.”

"He is," the captain said. "While you were gone yesterday we all learned that this place has four! The Four Kings! And since they're all connected to each other we have to beat them all together too."

He folded his arms in front of him as the same tournament preamble that was carried by the Heavenly Principles began to play over Esaka's screens. Juri’s purple and green eyes drifted to the TV as the festivities continued. There he was. Dictator. M. Bison. Grin frozen on his face as he spoke, alluding to her assassination. Or, as it turned out, assassination attempt. At first, she thought it was just pre-recorded.

Juri’s expression darkened. A cold draft from the broken window brought a chill into the room. For a long moment, she only stared off into nothingness. Then, a strange look flickered across her face, like she made peace with something. ”Guess I’ll just… go kill him again.” She said, standing up.

The man appearing whole and healthy did not surprise Pit as much as it did Juri, but now that he knew the Kings could come back within hours, not the one or two days Xilgrev had estimated, it reinforced the Seekers' plan to corner each one at the end of the tournament series. Which is why Juri going to try again right now would not work.

"Wait, Juri- this is what I was talking about!" Pit said, flitting over next to her as she stood up. "We gotta work together and get them all at the same time!"

”’There is no ‘we’!” Juri snapped. She took advantage of Pit coming nearer to knee him into the air and then kick him across the room. Even when she was tipsy her fundamental combat prowess shined through.

”’You idiots can’t do anything right!” Juri shouted. ”’I had him! I had him!”

”’What were you doing, sleeping? Going beddy-bye!? I killed him! Now I’m going to kill him again! And I’ll kill the rest, too!” Juri stomped out into the street.

She must have learned by now that the angel was stubborn, almost to a fault. It was only a moment later that he extracted himself from the wooden remains of the bar booth he'd crashed into and followed after her, leaping out of the broken window and skidding to a halt in front of her. There were still splinters in his hair, as well as a look of steely determination on his face.

"All by yourself? When they know we're here after them? I know I'm the last person who should be saying this but use your brain!" Pit snapped back at her. "If you'd told us what you were doing then we could have gone after the others at the same time - it's too late now but we can stick to the original plan! We can take them all down together!"

Juri set a hand on her hip and then fixed a loose strand of her hair. ”’You’re right, change a’ plans. First, I’ll kill you, then the Four Kings. How’s that sound?” She asked.

Unconcerned about the apparent threat on his life, Pit let out a noise of exasperation. "Seriously? You wanna do this right now? The first rounds of the tournament are about to start!"

Juri answered with a sucker kick to the side of Pit’s head. ”’Anyone who gets in my way gets crushed.” She answered. ”’Think you’d have caught on by now.”

He had at least caught on to her violent tendencies, this time not so caught off guard that he couldn't block her attack. He winced when he brought his forearm up to catch the kick, then flung his arm out to push her leg away while he hopped back from her, putting a few feet of distance between them. His expression was tight, unsure on what he should do. There was the tournament to think about, but he couldn't leave Juri to run wild and reckless around Esaka. It would put her, and the rest of the Seekers in danger. Getting through to her seemed impossible though. Then again... she was a martial artist, and when they'd fought before Pit had learned a little more about her.

Plus she seemed intent to fight. That settled it then.

"You said you don't like people thinking they're better than you but you're doing the same thing! You think you're too good to help us, or... or to accept help. Or... I dunno! I don't know why you always want to do everything on your own-" he started saying. Her reasons seemed to be fundamentally different to Pit's own want to do things himself in order to protect others. "-but you can't this time! And if you need me to prove it to you..."

He held his arm out, little golden sparkles forming around it before his Upperdash Arm appeared around his entire limb. He let the weight of its disc drop to the ground with a heavy thud. He gave Juri a toothy, forced smile, completely different from the confident or joyful ones he normally wore.

"...then I'll do it. With time to spare. Never had to discipline anyone in my units before, but I guess there's a first time for everything, huh!"

”’Now you’re speaking my language.” Juri smiled, her eyes dialing in on him.

Pit then lifted the Arm up as the red and black head began to spin. It shot forward at Juri, a hefty high speed disc that was swiftly replaced by another, and then another and another as the projectiles hurtled her way.

Juri lifted her front foot and set her hand on her knee, her laid-back fighting stance. As the discs came towards her, she lowered her torso and began to glow a faint blue. Activating Drive Parry, she swatted each of the discs aside with ease as she got a feel for their speed and timing. After Parrying the third, she released it and zipped to the left, dodging the forth.

”’I am better than you.” She said. ”Morons chasing made up shit. Makes me sick.”

Juri rushed in, flashing green as she blitzed towards Pit at incredible speed, aiming an elbow towards his throat when she got closer. Drive Rush gave all of her attacks extra force, if they were blocked normally she would have the advantage - but Pit was committed to offense for the moment. The Orbitars did not appear to replace his Arm, nor did he lift the weapon between himself and Juri. Instead he swung it behind him, its weight jerking the angel backward just before Juri's blow connected.

The motion was only the first part of his back-dash attack; the disc spun even faster as it was launched into the follow up of an immediate forward thrust aimed at Juri's middle into a heavy uppercut that threatened to toss her into the air. "You're gonna see how wrong you are! You need us 'morons' whether you like it or not!"

Juri’s forward momentum carried her as Pit tried to evade by moving backwards. She met the forward thrust with a knee and then swiped out her other foot across Pit’s face, stuffing the heavy uppercut. She landed three point, then shifted to the side to maintain a close distance to Pit, and to make it so if he backed up he would start backing up towards buildings rather than the empty street.

”Comin’ ‘atcha!” She taunted. Pit met her energy, his head snapping back to focus on her after taking the kick. "C'mon then!"

He also met her advance with another hard swing of the Arm, twisting to fling his limb and the entire weapon at her like a holy bludgeon in a horizontal slice. For being such a heavy weapon it was decently quick, but since Juri's reaction time was just as fast he banked on her ducking it. As the weapon swooshed overhead, she was greeted with a rising kick of Pit's own right to her jaw.

Juri stepped back to avoid further attack and then stepped in, sending out a long ranged kick. Then she converted into a Fuha stock with an upward slicing kick that trailed with black and white energy. This gave her 1 enhanced special move. Juri kept kicking and poking at Pit, trying to force his back towards the wall.

He held his ground well though, having learned last time that if let Juri trap him it would lead to a bad situation. This go around he couldn't afford to lose. Each strike Juri levied at him Pit met with his own more often than not, utilizing his free arm and legs when the Upperdash Arm couldn't cut it - but in the briefest openings when it could, each swing was like a little wrecking ball. Of course in close quarters melee Juri had the upper hand, and as seconds ticked by while they traded blows eventually Pit felt the tips of his wings brush the panels of the neighboring building. He sucked in a breath, feinted like he was going to attempt to escape to one side, and then instead jumped straight up. Another mid-air jump assisted by his wings gave him enough height to get over Juri's head, but rather than regroup he dove at her with the Upperdash Arm whirring dangerously, a miniature meteor that would drive her into the ground - it only it had connected.

Juri reacted to the feint with a quick kick, but it was low-committal enough that she could react in time for his meteor. ”Hay-yah!” Juri shouted, turning into a vertical human sawblade of streaking white and black energy. Her Tensenrin pinwheel kick was a technique immune to aerial attacks. She slipped past the Upperdash Arm with a harsh series of strikes that forced Pit out of the air. This technique hadn’t come up in the cramped corridors of the Avenger, but it was one of Juri’s staples. Pit had managed to escape from being trapped but he would pay a price for it.

”You’re really not cut out for this. Fighting or being a ‘Captain’ or…anything, really. Shame you won’t ever get to grow up and learn from your mistakes!” Juri grinned, and used Drive Rush to close the distance and pounce on where he had landed. This time she would swipe in with a crouching kick, shooting her foot outward to catch Pit’s legs in case he tried to move.

Rather than Pit himself, her foot hit unyielding metal. Maybe he really hadn't learned much until now, since he should have started with his beloved bow this time, just like he should have last time. It wasn't too late now though. Once the dust that had been kicked up from his landing faded Juri could see her anti-air had gotten him good, but also that the Arm was gone and a pair of blue and gold blades were in Pit's hands, the flat of one of them having blocked her kick. And he laughed, though somewhat bitterly.

"You don't know anything about me! About any of us, 'cause you never even tried to learn!" he told her. "You have no idea I've been fighting since way before any of you humans were even born!"

He shifted into his fighting stance, one sword held forward and one reversed. "Hope you're ready, I'm about to show you the real gap between us!" Between one breath and the next he shot towards her with a series of quick and vicious cuts, unwilling to give her any quarter.

Juri backed up, deflecting and dodging strikes with her arms and legs. This was getting her nowhere though, and she wasn’t interested in letting him cut and graze her. She spent ‘two bars’ of Gauge on a Drive Reversal, interrupting her own defensive movements with a spinning, no-damage kick to knock Pit off of her. He staggered but was back in fighting shape just as quick.

”You’ve got nothing to show for it.” She said. ”Dumb kid.” She was at about three and a half out of six Drive Gauge. Basically, a little more than half of her stamina before she entered Burn Out.

She sent several purple slashes of energy towards Pit, and then spent her Fuha stock on an enhanced slicing ki blade that hummed menacingly along the ground towards him. She followed behind it at a casual pace, as it only traveled a little faster than her quick walk.

For once Pit didn't rise anymore to her bait. Each of the projectiles sent his way were dispersed as he clicked the pommels of his swords together and spun them in a whirling cycle, a few of the waves even returned to sender while Juri advanced. He weaved around the latest that snaked towards him and met her halfway, spinning himself into a more powerful inward slash with the bladed bow in its whole form which he followed up with a roundhouse kick.

”Tch, boring.” Juri clicked her tongue as her projectiles were reflected at her. She had methods of countering that, but not right now. She focused into a Drive Parry once again to deflect her own projectiles, and her foot met the blade and kicks with ease. Drive Parry allowed her supreme defense against strikes and projectiles, but left her rooted to the floor and vulnerable to grabs, if Pit could reason that out.

In return, she went to hook her leg behind Pit’s head with a grab of her own. She was going to drag him face first into the floor and stomp on him!

It might have got him too, if both of his hands weren't still free to continue his offense. "Then try this one!"

With a flick his reversed blade joined its twin in a forward grip as Pit stabbed both forward at Juri's stomach before turning them into cutting windmills. His own lose-lose situation made for her - if she released him to get away he would simply press in with the same righteous fury of slashes that made quick work of monsters, but if she committed then his position would let him catch himself before hitting the dirt and counter attack.

For her trouble, Juri caught the two blades to the belly, trying to take her turn back too soon. ”Oof!” She grit her teeth and squeezed one eye shut, looking at Pit for a split second as she was counter hit. The windmills cut into her, sending yellow ki sparks everywhere as she reeled backwards.

Seizing the opening Pit released his grip on one of the blades by flicking it up to slash her as it spiraled into the air, the technique lowering her evasion and improving Pit's own. With his remaining sword he dropped to kneel and slice at her leg with a backhanded swing that put her in danger of completely losing her balance and sending her to the ground.

Juri was slashed up and then knocked off her feet. She landed on her back and rolled onto her feet in a single smooth motion before the angel could take any further advantage. ”Die!” Then she exploded upwards with an invincible Tensenrin kick that would bring them both into the air before she kicked him downwards. If Pit predicted this though, she would be in trouble.

It was hard to say if he had or not, as he was quick enough to shield himself with his arms as her attacks carried them upwards but did not try and evade. Pit gave her a fierce glare from behind his block, seemingly caught in her momentum... but there was still his other sword that he'd thrown up just before this. The blade was coming back down fast, slashing Juri as it fell. As though expecting it Pit snatched the hilt and came out of his block with two vicious cross cuts, his strength increased now that he was airborne, and then aimed to send Juri back down to earth instead with a heavy downward arc with his reversed blade.

There was a red flash of ki instead of yellow as Juri was Punish Countered. Juri grit her teeth and slammed into the ground. ”Guh!” She pulled herself to her feet like a snake or a puppet, her upper half dragging behind as she slunk back to standing. She was breathing heavily, on the verge of Burn Out. Angry, she just stared at Pit, fists clenched. ”...”

He hovered above her, his wings spread out so wide in order to linger in the air that one could count each individual feather. Neither of them were beholden to Galeem's spell, but even so quitting was not on the table for either Seeker. Pit's expression was still rather severe as he stared back at her, his mouth pressed into a thin line. He could tell she was slowing down, but he knew letting his guard down would be a mistake. The smart thing to do would be finish her off from here with his arrows, but he wanted to drive home a point. With his bright eyes still trained on the Spider, Pit's wings sliced through the air and he dove.

"Game over, Juri!"

Pit's blades were in front of him, perfectly poised for both offense and defense. He lashed out while he could still claim his airborne buff, quick, efficient, and merciless.

All at once, Juri crouched and twisted, planting her hand on the ground and throwing out her back foot. It would be like impaling a charging horse with a spear. She timed it just right, to dodge away from his blades and use his own momentum to rattle his ribs and stop him dead in his tracks.

There was a brief flash as a prismatic shield appeared between her kick and her target. Unlike before when he'd completely swapped weapons, the Orbitars were quick-summoned - there just long enough to stop an attack before they were gone again. Since his swords were still in hand Pit swung them once more, not about to let up now. He cut her even while Juri felt the impact of the shield against her foot and tried to draw back into a Drive Parry.

This close he snapped his swords together and reached out with a grab of his own, one hand moving to lock around her bicep and the other to slam the complete bow into her chest to force her back to the ground.

This next Punish Counter audibly knocked the wind out of her as she went into Burn Out. ”Guh!”

Furious that she was slammed to the ground with the bow pinning her, she still had her Super Meter. She spent one level by digging her heel into the ground and swiping it towards Pit with a sudden surge of ki energy. ”Rraaah!”

Though Pit pressed the bladed bow down hard to keep her pinned, he figured she was going to take it lying down. Literally in this case. He rolled off of her to try and avoid the last ditch kick, mitigating the worst of it though he still winced when it clipped him. He was on his feet again in an instant.

Juri pushed herself up to her feet, out of breath. ”By the time I’m through with you…”

Instead of Pit's voice a somewhat familiar whirring sound responded to Juri then, another quick-summon seeing the Upperdash Arm make a reappearance - along with the heavy forward slam that she had prevented previously. Pit rushed forward with it and punched the spinning head to Juri's body. "Hyaaah!"

Juri brought her elbows down and blocked the strike, but due to her Burn Out state she was sent flying. She smacked into a nearby brick wall and was flattened against it, well above the ground. When she peeled off of it she landed on her feet, only for her shoulders to slump and her head to droop. Stunned, she clutched her head and staggered forward. ”Mmgh… You’re…dead meat..!”

A moment later she was pressed back to the building again, her angelic opponent cornering her and slamming a golden blade into the wall. It was sharp and sturdy enough to cut right into the brick where it stuck out inches from her head.

"You lost this time," Pit told her. "Are you gonna listen to me now?"

Dazed, it took a moment for Juri’s eyes to land on Pit’s. When they did, her face twisted into something nasty. She raised one hand and tried to jam it towards the angel's neck. ”Annoying little-!”

Her fingers brushed his throat just before he pulled away. "I guess not."

Pit was back in her face sooner than expected though, slamming his forehead against hers with a headbutt to knock her lights out.

”Ugh-” Juri's head snapped back, and her eyes tipped upwards. ”Damn- I-...unh..” She fell onto her knees, and then past Pit, landing prone with her arms at her sides. As her lids grew heavy, she glared at Pit's sandals like she was trying to set them on fire. But all the vitriol and violence left her expression as her eyes closed. Anything near ‘peaceful’ was an unusual look for Juri's mean face. This was also the closest she had gotten to sleep in about two days.

As it turned out, the aftermath of a street fight was kind of awkward. Pit caught his breath, glancing around the mostly abandoned street (a few yokai had stuck around) while rubbing a hand on his head. Idly he wondered if he could convince Amaterasu to come down here later and fix the damage that had been done to the street. He wasn't sure if he'd succeeded in making Juri see she wouldn't be able to do everything on her own as he couldn't exactly ask her right now and she'd seemed way too angry to think straight, at least up until she’d passed out. He hoped after some time to settle down she'd come to her senses though. Pit himself still had adrenaline running through him but he was sure he would be feeling the ache of fighting her soon. The question was... what did he do now?

I can't wait around for her to wake up, but I can't take her with me... Uh... hm... Obviously he wasn't going to just leave her there either, but he had to come up with something that would make sure she was safe while she slept off the loss.

...which led him to the thought of the current safest place the Seekers had available to them, since it wouldn't be anywhere in Esaka. Carefully he fished a fulton pack out and wrapped it securely around Juri, beyond thankful she didn't wake up halfway through. He carried her away from the eaves of the surrounding buildings and pulled the cord, watching as the balloon inflated gently before rapidly ascending with its cargo.

"Juri Han, eliminated from Mortal Kombat!" Pit said to himself, hands shielding his eyes from the sun while he looked into the sky. The little joke hardly made him feel better. He kept watching for a few seconds even after he couldn't see the fulton anymore, and then shook his head. This was for the best, he couldn't have just let her throw herself at M. Bison and the other Guardians on her own. Hopefully she would come to see that. For now he had to focus on the Seekers' main plan: ascending through the tournament ladders for a proper strike at Esaka's Four Kings.

He started back towards his arena, picking up his pace until he was flat out sprinting. He had no idea how long that had actually taken after all. "...this better not have gotten me disqualified!"